


Hannibal's Inferno

by UnknownMusing



Series: Hannigram's Heart [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: A slight description of Sexual Assault and Violence, BottomHannibal, Cannibilism, IntersexHannibal, M/M, Mpreg, Submission, TopWill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 06:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13969293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownMusing/pseuds/UnknownMusing
Summary: How it all begin and how Hannibal Lecter become the person that Detective Will Graham, finds out about when the two of them meet.How Hannibal, was taught how to hunt for his prey and make sure he never got caught and obeyed the Rule - Don't let you Emotions get in the Way - that is Predecessor - Javier De Leon - had taught him.How Hannibal, lost something and gained it back.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hannibalsimago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibalsimago/gifts), [purplesocrates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesocrates/gifts), [Damonfreak89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damonfreak89/gifts).



Hannibal's P.O.V:

NIGHTMARE SCENE:

I'm lying naked in…. No, on a bed of moss, which is slightly damp from rain – which also covers also the petals and leaves of the flowers and bushes around me.

The earthy smell fills my nostrils, along with another scent which is like freshly spilled blood coming from somewhere then suddenly, before I can say anything, hands grab me so roughly it makes me gasp breathlessly in shock and surprise at it.

Something soon, glints in the sunlight that is filtering through the gaps of the leaves in the trees and I see it is a hunting knife then I'm pushed harshly back down, pinned to the moss bed as they without warning stab immediately down with it into my chest with such force, it causes my back to arch of the moss bed.

Blood, forms and pools over my chest to run down the sides, dripping onto the moss-bed then the person – who's face I cannot see at all – places it to one side. They bend their head down and immediately harsh, blinding pain goes through me, followed by cracking sound echoing in the clearing then blackness sinks in, covering my whole sight.

I remember nothing from thereafter.

END OF NIGHTMARE SCENE

My eyes shoot wide open, and lying there under the large duvet cover, can feel my heart thudding against my ribcage like it was threatening to escape from my chest then roll to lay on my back in the King size bed.

I can also feel my chest has become covered in thin layer of sweat, while my breath is coming in laboured gasps then laying my head to one side on the pillow, stare at the empty space next to me.

An empty space, which would never be filled by anyone I could consider my Equal, Partner or even…Lover.

Placing my hand on the empty space, I expect it to be cold only to be the exact opposite – it was warm – meaning that someone had being laying there without my knowledge then slipping out the bed, open one of the bedside drawers to get out…. Only it wasn't there.

The scalpel, which was for emergencies had been taken and starting to feel cautious like when a prey knows there is a predator around then hear a noise coming from downstairs, which makes me take one of the thin belts from the drawer.

I head to the bedroom door, opening it silently as possible and step out onto the landing, looking both left and right then the noise comes again, this time from downstairs. I head to the top of the stairs, which curved down the hallway and going down, avoid the steps which will creak if I step on them then finally reach the bottom, where I see the dining room light is on at minimum setting.

I step on the polished hallway floor, padding across to the dining room double doors and looking through the gap, see a sight which is unexpected to me. Someone – who had broken into my home – had prepared a meal and laid it out on the large dining room table, while the light was candles which had been lit at some point.

Willing my heart to stop thudding against my ribcage, I push the door slightly ajar and slip inside, heading over to the kitchen door which opens as someone – the intruder – comes out of the kitchen then tightening my hands around the thin belt to make it into makeshift garotte, I creep up behind them.

Quickly, I bring it over their head and go to pull it tight around their throat, when suddenly their hands grab hold of it. With strength – which could not be Human – and before I can do anything, they use it to fling me completely over them then feel myself being harshly slammed, right down onto the table with such force it makes pain shoot through my spine at the impact. My back arches off the wooden surface, mouth opening in a silent winded gasp and collapsing back down, now lay there as my hands let go of the thin belt to fall limply to my sides as a shadow covers my sight above me.

A hand, takes hold of my chin and a thumb, brushes over my bottom lip causing it to quiver slightly under the touch then moving that hand away, place it on my chest as I tense at the feel of the palm on my bare skin.

Who is this person?

How did they get in my House?

What do they want with me?

I come out of my internal questions, when they lean their head down and before I can protest, lips smash into mine with such force, I try to struggle free from it. Yet, they are relentless with their forceful kissing and, something like meat – that has been chewed up by them – is being pushed into my mouth as they make me swallow it, stroking a finger down my throat to check I want to try to sick it back up. Which was what I really wanted to do and can feel saliva that has built up, trickling down the sides of my chin then they let go of my lips, seeing how flushed I look and my lips swollen from it.

I manage to get up, slipping off the table and to collapse on my knees on the red threaded carpet with gold ferns in it then my stomach heaves up what I been force-fed onto it. It splatters everywhere, with some spit added in the mix and seeing what it is, immediately gaze up at them with wide eyes. It just wasn't possible.

"You ruined the surprise, now. Come on, it's time to see your other half." They say, in a disembodied voice and making me, backpedal backwards on the carpet then managing to get up, run out of the dining room, stumbling in the process as my Predator calmly follows me then I find myself falling onto the polished floor, landing in a heap and before, I can get away hands grab hold of me to flip me onto my back.

A hunting knife – like the one that had been in my Nightmare – appears in their hand, slicing immediately my boxers to shreds and they fling them to one side, looking down at me in way which makes me close my legs as I cover my lower half with my hands. I felt insecure, afraid and fearing for my life, which they are noticing then a hand grabs my hands by their wrists, bringing them up to above my head and pinning them to the polished marble floor to be soon tied together with the thin belt. So, tightly it makes blood well up and trickle down my wrists then they bend down their head, placing their lips against my ear to whisper in it.

"Don't try anything. If you move or try any means of escaping…during well... your surgery. You'll will regret it."

What do you mean by my "Surgery"?

Are you planning to operate on me?

How?

They pull away from me, leaving me lying on the cold polished marble floor as their footsteps fade away into the kitchen then heart furiously pounding in my ribcage now, I roll onto my front. Getting up, I look at the front door seeing they had blocked it by placing a chain with a padlock on it around the double door handles then looking up the stairs, know it was foolish plan and yet, it might work to save my life.

Lightening shoots across the sky, illuminating the storm clouds in the black sky and the trees – which tower above my head – as I run through the large forest, which surrounded Lecter Mansion, while heavy rain that is falling pelts down on my naked body, running down it in thick rivulets. My heart is still thudding against my ribcage, with each lightning strike making me stumble in the process and not really paying attention to where I'm going, trip over something - like a tree root or stump - causing pain to shoot through my ankle as I land on the forest floor, with muffled thump.

Biting my lip, I manage to keep the cry from escaping me. Because, I did not want to be found by the Predator, who was now hunting me then turn my gaze, to see what I had tripped over. It is a half-buried arm - making me backpedal backwards, until my back hits a tree and leaning against it, start to hyperventilate at the fact, already they had killed someone with their bare hands then bile rising in my stomach, turn my face to one side as heave on the soaked leaves, which lay scatter about me.

But why?

Why, choose me?

Why?

Those questions, swirl around my head as I tremble and shiver, due to the cold rain which coats my naked body then go to move my leg, which sends pain radiating up it and before, I can stop myself a small cry escapes from me. It echoes around the forest, calling my Predator to me and soon hear a twig snapping underfoot, while the blood rushing in my ears sounds louder, joining in with my heartbeat then the lightning flashes, above the treeline illuminating them standing there.

Looking down at me, with their short dyed blond hair plastered to their forehead, with such an intense, hungry gaze it causes me to flinch at the look because it felt like I was small insect he was inspecting under the microscope and to him was just something he could pursue.

"Look at you, my little Silver Doe. You've hurt yourself, haven't you?" They say, squatting down in front of me and placing a hand on my ankle to squeeze it, lightly to check whether I had sprained or broken it, which makes me bite my lip in the process.

Because, I'm biting so hard it draws blood and feel it trickle down the side of lip as they lean forwards, breath hot against my face then a quiver runs through me, when their tongue laps it up, tasting the irony taste of it. They pull back from me, grabbing hold of me and before, I can struggle free or even say anything lift me up, bridal style then cradling me close, begin to walk back to the Mansion.

Leaving behind the dead, cold body of their victim - who's arm I tripped over - in the ground, which they had been buried in.

Like they had been, I was now trapped in the clutches of my Predator, who would now not let me escape at all from them.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note - Hannibal was 18 years old, when he met his "Teacher" and is now, has 12 years have gone by is 30 years old.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
Hannibal's P.O.V:  
12 YEARS LATER:   
LOCATION: Lecter Mansion's Wine Cellar - 15:00  
I breathe heavily, with my chest rising and falling under my blue shirt - which is completely covered in blood of from my first ever proper victim, who I had just killed - the lean against the wine cellar wall for support.  
Was this what my "Teacher" had felt when he first killed his first victim. The strange, euphoric and aroused state of doing a kill then lowering my head back down, stare at the dead, still body of the victim on the operating table.  
I would have to clean up the floor, place the body in the large freezer behind the large stacks of wine bottles - where they wouldn't be found - so it could be prepared for dinner, later then going to do, what needs to be done my mobile phone vibrates in one of my trousers’ pockets.  
Because, I'm still holding the bloodied hunting knife in my right hand, I get it out with my left hand and see on the screen it is the young man - Will Graham, a patient of mine - calling me then bringing it up to my ear, press the answer button.  
"Dr. Lecter, is that you?"  
"Yes. What is it, Mr Graham?"  
"It happened again. The......Nightmare...about the..."  
The Nightmare. So, he had experienced the same vision like dream again and this time by the way, I can hear his breathing on the other side of the phone, that something more had happened in it.   
I remember our first meeting, between us where he had discussed about the creature which haunted him and scaring him to point, whether he wonder if he was going insane or not.  
"The one, about the creature that looks like a stag, penetrating...."  
I stop myself in realization of what his "Nightmare" meant and feel my hand, holding the knife let loosely go of it as it soon, clatters to the wine cellar floor then begin to tremble, slightly.  
"Dr. Lecter!!? Dr. Lecter?!!"  
"Sorry, I... need to finish taking out some trash. Why don't you come over for dinner, tonight and will talk more about it?  
"Are you sure? I don't want to inconvenience you?"  
"You won't. I'm alone up here and don't really get the opportunity to ask someone around for dinner."  
"Alright, I'll see you tonight, so you have enough time to sort yourself, Hannibal."  
He cuts off, after saying my first name - which had caused a shiver to run up my spine at it - and lowering my phone down from my ear, look at the dead, still body on the operating table then smirk, lightly.  
It was time to prepare for oneself and one's guest - Dinner.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   
The front doorbell, ringing in the still, empty hallway makes me place the vegetable knife I'm using to cut the onions, down on the wooden cutting board then place the chopped-up pieces into the stew. After sorting that, I wash my hands, thoroughly and dry them on the kitchen towel, which hangs on the rack near the cooker.  
I head out the kitchen, through the dining room and to the main front doors, where I pull the bolt back then unlock to reveal Will Graham, standing there holding in his hands a bottle of red wine, which he hands to me. I take it off him, with one hand and indicate for him to come into my home.  
He steps inside, brushing past me in the process and closing the door behind him, slide the bolt back in place then after locking it, turn to face him. He is so close to me, my nostrils are soon filled with the scent of cologne, shower shampoo and his own muskiness it makes me quiver, slightly.  
I can't even stop myself from what I do next as I take hold of him by wrapping my arms around him, bending my head down to his neck then inhale deeply, causing him to give a slight tremble at it.   
Then in realization at what I'm doing and allowing to happen, quickly pull myself away from him then to distract him from what had just happened, lead him into the dining room.  
"Dr. Lecter....Are you sure, you’re alright?" He asks, voicing his concern, when I sway forwards slightly and he manages to grab me by my arms to hold me up.  
Flicking my gaze up to him, I find myself again losing my control as I lean forwards to those soft, moist lips of his then before I can fully feel them against mine, the fire alarm in the kitchen goes off at a convenient time.  
I move away from him, heading back into the kitchen to make sure the stew doesn't become spoiled and go all over the cooker, leaving a mess to clear up, again.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"Dr. Lecter? Umm, Hannibal?"  
At first, I don't hear him saying my last name, because I'm busy placing the stew on the plates for the both of us and it is only when he says my first name, it makes me turn around holding them both.  
"Shall....we, eat? The food, will get cold if we don't." I manage to get out, even though my voice breaks in the process as he nods silently then heads over to the small kitchen table, pulling a chair out and sitting down in it.  
After collecting some cutlery, I head over myself and place his plate in front of him then placing my down, hand over his cutlery. He takes it from me and pulling my chair back, place my plate down then taking off the apron, fold it and place it over the back of the chair. I sit down, pulling it close to the table and picking up my fork, go to eat some of the meat first.  
It's when I bring it up to my lips, my hand immediately begins to tremble slightly and lowering it back down, place my fork back on the plate then a hand covers mine, making me lift my head to look at Will Graham, who has started to rub circles into it to calm me.  
"Hey, it's alright. Tell me. Is something wrong?" He asks me, still rubbing circles into my hand and looking at me, with concern in his face.  
"I want you to make me, cum." is the words, I say in my head, because of the way he is affecting me and push the plates out the way, so they don't get knocked off the table then grabbing hold of him, pull him out of his chair and over the table to me.  
Before, I even think of the "Rule" which my "Teacher" had taught me, I smash my lips into his with such force, he gives a muffled gasp of shock and surprise at it then his hands, take hold of me and pull me out of my chair, up onto the kitchen table and up onto my knees like he is.  
Hands, soon wrap around my body - one taking hold of the back of my head to sift through my hair and the other my waist as the both of us, begin to kiss breathlessly with tongues entwining in breathless, lustful harmony as we also breathe heavily through our nostrils.   
It feels so good, perfect and erotic in the way, we are both doing it as he changes the positions each time to kiss me, more deeply that I start to moan heavily in the kissing as I start to feel hot, lightheaded and aroused all at the same time.  
When he finally let's go of my lips, he doesn't let go of me. Instead, he bends down his head to my neck, where a breathless gasp comes from me with my head tilting backwards to expose it more to him as he starts to trail his lips up and down it. He tightens his grip on me, pressing his lower half into mine and causing me to buck my lower half, against his then he is pushing me down.  
I look up at him, feeling him soon bend back down to my neck to finishing continuing to caress it, with his lips, making me start to whimper breathlessly at it then he slides downwards, to between my thighs.  
My belt is unbuckled, followed by the button of my trousers un-popped and he soon pulls the zip down then parting my trousers more, places his hand on the seam of my boxers, pulling them down along with them. He flicks his eyes up to me, seeing my flushed face and pupils expanded so much it tells him, I'm aroused then bends down his head, between my thighs as this causes a cry - which comes from me - to echo in the kitchen's, empty stillness.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"Uhhh...No... more.... No, no... OH, GOD!!?"  
My hands are now, gripping the large blanket on the King size bed for support - while on the carpet, thrown over the place are both of our clothes - as he undulates his hips back and forth into mine, sliding it in and out of me with each thrust.  
Each thrust, which is jolting my body up and down on it and causing me to feel like, I'm burning up inside with little flames caressing my skin and the fact, I was allowing him to do this to me.  
This causes me to let go of the blanket, bringing my hands up to wrap them around him and find myself having to take hold of the back of his head with one hand - sifting it through his soft curly locks - and the other his shoulder - while, wrapping my legs around my waist as he goes harder and faster within me - for support.  
My whole body is writhing underneath him, wetness seeping between our bodies, plus down the inside of my thighs from my secret entrance, which is behind my male sex - which my "Teacher." had given me, during my operation - then my body tenses, against him with my thighs clenching, tightly around his waist, feeling myself cumming harder than before.  
He pulls me, close to him by my lower half and tenses against me, releasing into me that I moan softly at the feeling of his liquid warmth, fill me then he pulls out of me, collapsing to one side on the duvet cover, next to me. I feel exhausted and physically sated from what had transpired, between us then just lay there, trying to get my breath back like he is and allow my heartrate return to its normal pace.  
What have...I done?  
I laid with...my Prey.  
I've laid with...the Stag.  
He is the Stag and I'm...the Doe.  
We've mated...finally.  
A light snuffling noise, brings me out of my thoughts and turning my head, see that Will Graham has fallen asleep with exhaustion from what we just done then slipping off the bed, manage to walk it to where his sleeping. Lifting him up, I hold him close to me with one hand and with the other, throw the damp blanket onto the floor then pulling the large duvet cover back, lay him down. He shifts, slightly in his sleep and bringing the cover back up around him then heading back around the bed, slip into it myself.  
I lay my head down on the pillow, keeping my back to him and pulling my side of the cover, back up around me then switch the bedside drawer lamp off, dousing the both of us in darkness. I can hear his gentle breathing, followed by him shifting slightly and feel a hand, slip over my hip to rest on my chest as he snuggles up against my back then a light kiss is given to my shoulder.  
"I... don’t regret what transpired, between us. If you, understand this is a part of me, I don't...really show because of who I am to certain people." He whispers, making me frown and turning my head look at him over my shoulder, seeing how he is trembling slightly.  
"Will?!....I... don’t know what to say. I... can only tell you, I never...had...hggh...a Lover." I gasp out, coughing slightly and nearly choking on the words I say as he rolls me to lay on my back then helps me, sit up holding me close to him in a hug.  
I bury my face into his shoulder, breathing shakily with my chest rising and falling allowing him to rub his hand, up and down my back then after seeing I'm okay, he lays me back down, again and this time, rolls to lay on his back and pulling me close to him as possible.   
A hand comes up, taking hold of the back of my head and pushing it down to lay on his chest, sifting the hand through my hair to calm me, while I listen quietly to his heartbeat as it soon lulls me into deep sense of calmness, with my eyes slipping close as I fall asleep in the arms of the one who was now...my Lover.  
The one, who had been my Prey.  
The one, who was like the Stag.  
The one, who was slowly starting to break the ice over my heart, which been covered from when before I had even met him.  
Forgive me...Javier...I disobeyed your "Rule".  
Your...little Silver Doe, has .... finally mated with another Stag in the Forest.  
I no... longer belong to you.


	3. Chapter 3

Hannibal's P.O.V:  
The morning sun, filtering through a gap in the large curtains and shining down onto the bed as I feel a hand stroke the back of my cheek. It makes me, flutter my eyes open and lifting my head up, look at him blurrily then he bends his head down, kissing me, on the lips as his hand slips downwards to grip one of my ass-cheeks.  
"Hmmff....Will.... Okay, that's enough...That's enough." I gasp out, between the kissing and he pulls back from my lips then flicks his eyes downwards, to my lower half.  
"That's not, what your lower half is saying." He says, sliding his hand downwards and between, my thighs as it causes me to arch slightly then begins to move his hand up and down my shaft, causing me to drool heavily at it.  
Clambering over him, I straddle him and begin to rock my hips into his hand, feeling is own one, brush against my behind then he lifts me up, denying me from having the orgasm, parting my ass-cheeks with his hands. He slips a finger, over and begins to rub it up and down, that it also brushes against my secret entrance - which is dripping, softly with my release - then begins to rub it, more thoroughly, causing me to tilt my head backwards and place my hands either side of his waist to rest on the mattress cover for support.  
It feels so good, that I grab hold of his hand and clasping it, push his finger past my wet, moist folds then encourage him to finger-fuck me. He does so, pressing inwards with it and begins to slip inside and out at a certain pace, then presses down on something inside me, which makes me spurt my juices onto his hand and some pre-cum, dribble down my shaft.  
He moves his hand out the way, pressing soon his own shaft against it and sees how I quiver at him, brushing against my wet, moist folds then pushes upwards, causing me to tense immediately at it and tightly, grip the mattress cover for support at the slight pain of him, entering there.  
"Hannibal....It's alright...Relax, your body." He whispers, stroking a hand up and down my back to relieve the tension then my body un-tenses, allowing him to slip more easily into me as he sits up, with me, still straddling him.  
He begins to move, undulating his hips up and down so it makes me ride him in way as I take hold of him, holding him close to me. It is slow, gentle and lowering my head, I kiss him softly on the lips then pull back to whisper the words.  
"Don't stop.... Give me, everything.... Give me, all of you."   
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"Here. I made some breakfast for you."   
"Thank you."  
It feels strange, having someone else in my home and yet, with him being here I felt...could I almost say it...comfortable. His arms, wrap around me and sway me, slightly back and forth in time with the music that is playing on the radio.  
"If you keep, doing that...your breakfast is.... hmm, Will....oh, fuck" I begin to say, only to start to gasp breathlessly as he places his lips, against my neck and begins to trail them up and down as with his free hand, cups me, through my trousers it makes arch my hips into it.  
My hand, let's go of the frying pan and soon he is undoing my belt, pulling me away from the cooker - as I manage to quickly to switch it off, so breakfast doesn't burn - then over to the kitchen table, where he pins me down on my front. He soon, pulls them down along with boxers and gets over me, mounting me, it causes me to arch off the table then he takes hold of my hips, beginning to move as I tilt my head backwards with eyes fluttering close.  
Already sex, between us was becoming addicted and bringing my hand up, take hold of the back of his head to sift my hand through his hair as the front doorbell, suddenly rings in the hallway.   
It rings, again meaning that person waiting on the front doorstep is becoming impatient and yet, Will doesn't stop moving within me then my body shakes, against his followed by him pulling him me closer to him as I see suddenly - while he is so absorbed in pleasure - that reflected in the mirror, showing behind the both of us is a person - I don't recognise at all - looking through the kitchen windows.  
Their eyes look like, because the way I'm facing, straight into mine and turning my face, pull Will down for kiss to make sure he never notices it at all with tongues, soon entwining outside and inside our mouth's.  
When he pulls back from my lips, the person is gone from the window and making me, begin to think was Will, hiding something behind my back. Something he was keeping a... secret.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hannibal's P.O.V:  
"You...umm...better go." I say, noticing how Will, lifts his head from looking at the newspaper - which showed an article on a missing top Business man - then places it down on the kitchen table.  
"First tell me about the body, behind your wine cellar." He says, causing me to splutter the cup of tea, I been drinking all over the place then blink at him at first, only to soon understand it all.  
I throw the tea-cup away, running from the where I had been standing and manage to avoid a bullet - which imbeds itself in the wall - as he gets out of the chair, holding a gun in his hand then something hits me, straight in the face with such force - it is unexpected.  
I stumble backwards, falling against the counter and sliding down it, with blood flowing from my mouth to drip onto the floor as I try to figure out, whatever it was the other person had used to hit me with. Black roses, are blooming and spiralling in front of my vision, so intensely I must rest the side of my head against the wooden counter then see Will - shifting in and out of focus - come around it.  
"I'll show you, where the body is, Jack." He says, to the black man and I feel eyes, flick down to me, making me flick one eye towards them.  
They step back at the gaze, probably sensing I was not to be underestimated at all then both head out the kitchen, leaving me alone. Bringing my hand up, I grip the counter edge for support, tightly and using it, haul myself up to my feet then manage to walk over to large food cupboard door.  
Opening it, I step inside and closing the door, quietly, head to the very back of it then reach my hand up to pull the coat hanger down, allowing for the shelving to pull back to reveal one of many secret entrance's littered about the Lecter Mansion.  
I step inside, allowing the darkness to swallow me up as the shelving slips back in place and keeping close to the stone brick wall - avoiding the light switch in the process, because it would show under the gap of shelving in the large food cupboard - keep on walking with just the comforting darkness and the voices of my past for company.  
"You’re a murderer."  
"You can't love, anyone at all."  
"I’m…a... Murderer?"  
"My little, Silver Doe."  
I stop walking, almost collapsing against the wall at those words and turning myself, lean my back against the wall with my head tilted backwards to stare up a darkened ceiling, willing my heart to stop thudding against my ribcage then a smashing noise, makes me quickly lower my head to look at the way I just come.  
"Shit....I should have invested in stronger shelving, with a concrete backing." I mutter under my breath, un-leaning from the stone brick wall and sighing, while sifting a hand through my already mussed up hair then turning myself fully around, run towards the EXIT.   
"LECTER!!! I'LL SHOOT YOUR ASS, IF YOU DON'T COME QUIETLY."  
"Oooh, someone's pissed off." I say, which immediately makes me clap a hand to my mouth and yet, it is still late - the sentence has already escaped me - soon echoing in the long-darkened hallway.  
"I HEARD THAT, LECTER. DON'T THINK, I DIDN'T."  
A strange - almost orgasmic as well - groan escapes me, while I reach for the safety toolbox on the floor and opening it, find what I'm looking for by the fact I had written "grenade" on it in luminous paint - to jog my memory in case, something like this might happen - then pulling the pin, fling the grenade, so it rolls down the long hallway to where I want it to go.  
"WELL, I'M GLAD. I HOPE YOU, ENJOY....MY LITTLE GIFT. THOUGH A WARNING TO YOU, IT'S RATHER SENSITIVE."   
I shout, listening quietly to curses and running footsteps, followed by an explosion that shakes the ceiling slightly in the process - a small, distinct pile of dust falling at my feet - then cough, slightly at the fact I may have just destroyed a whole food storage cupboard.  
"YOU, MOTHERF...CKERRRRR!!! LECTER, THAT WAS NOT FUNNY."  
"I'm not...gahhh!!...laughing, Darling. I'm just enjoying myself." I begin to say, only to jerk slightly backwards when a bullet sears over my arm and hits the EXIT door behind me then grumble the rest of it with a curse as blood, begins to seep through the expensive white Italian shirt I'm wearing.  
"OH, BEFORE I GO. THAT WAS MY FAVOURITE SHIRT, JACK."   
"I DON'T GIVE A F..CK ABOUT IT. OH, GODDAMMIT...NOT AGAIN."  
After sending some more little gifts - grenades - and getting out of the EXIT door, I stand in the empty freezer - which had literally turned into a crime scene - with hands on my hips, staring at the door, which behind was more of these police officer's or F.B.I CSI's busy examining the evidence.   
The body of my Victim, laid out in front of me looking like he been plastered to the floor and moving to the back, place my hand on the wall to check for the emergency button then see it as I find myself hitting the wall with my fist. It hurts, but one copes with the pain and crossing my arms over my chest, shiver slightly with ice coldness of the freezer.  
"Sir, I assure you. No-one is in there."   
"He is. Smug, arrogant and rich prick.  
"Open it."  
The door, cracks open and pulls back to reveal a nice sight of Will, standing there with his gun pointing at me as Jack - his partner or something gives me a scrutinizing gaze - then indicates two officers – no, make that three.  
The third, being a big muscular one - who looks like he been doing steroids a lot - and wrenches my arms back, behind my back so quickly I'm pulled flush against him as something bumps against my lower half.  
"Is that your gun or are you, just happy to see me?" I chitter out, due to the cold making my teeth chatter and they grumble, hauling me out of the large freezer to fling me up against a desk.  
"Enough. Calm down." The black man called Jack, says to the large man, who nods in reply and heads away, glaring at me when I teasingly blow a kiss at them with my lips then a hand, slap me across the face because of it.  
"Will, that's enough." I hear, Jack say and turning my face, growl at the man - who literally had laid with me, three times now - then Will, steps closer to me.   
"A little bit, closer. And, you know I could suck...your...cock, which has been inside me." I whisper, only so he can hear me and watch, with satisfaction as a bright full-on blush rises on his cheeks.  
"You...Bastard. If my superior, weren't here...I do worse to you." He whispers, which makes me grin at him and he curses, punching me in the gut for good measure as I give a muffled "oomph" noise, collapsing over his arm.  
"Ow...Wait, your...he's your superior." I say, lifting my head to look at the black man - called Jack - and flick my eyes to Will, to his Superior and back to Will.  
"You got a problem, with that, Lecter." Jack, says in a such a mocking voice and give him full-on glare then stand up, straight to fully lean against the desk.  
"I...f... gahhh, Will!!" I begin to say, only to say my...scheming Lover's name and everyone in the room goes silent with an awkward tension rising around then a hand is on my throat, tightening to point it feels...oddly pleasurable...then starts to become a mad panic for needing air.  
Hands manage to pull him off me, leaving me to collapse on the floor and heave up, weakly some bile with spit in the mix then wipe my mouth with back of my hand. I look over at Will, giving me a look like he was some of wild animal - a Stag, showing his Doe, he was in control not them - then I'm being hauled to my feet, by the large guy.  
"Take him to the van and... also, put a muzzle or something on his mouth." Jack says, causing me to lunge at him with my hands trying to literally claw out his eyeballs then a hand, does something to my hip.  
I jerk, slightly like a puppet - when it's strings have been cut - and turning my head, see Will is standing behind me. In his hand, he holds a hypodermic needle - which been filled with something - and turning fully around, walk up to him to trap him against the desk then sway slightly, forwards and backwards.  
My body, soon makes the decision to fall backwards in slow motion as the whole room tilts to reveal the ceiling - with the faded painting of Lucifer's fall painted on it - then hit the wooden floor with a muffled thud. A shadow covers my sight, covering everything and it is the only thing I can see, before my eyes slip close.  
I remember nothing, thereafter.

FLASHBACK:  
LOCATION – ROME (past)  
Sitting in one of the concert chair’s in the far back, I look at the programme which had been handed to me and opening it, see the concert would be starting off with a cello concerto then hear footsteps, coming up to where I’m sitting.  
I close the programme, turning slightly in my chair and look up at Javier – my “Teacher” – then he reaches out his hand to cup my cheek in his hand, stroking it lightly with his thumb. We are alone, in the Opera House and there is no-one else around then pulls away from me, when I hear voices echoing in the corridor.  
He goes around, slipping past me to sit in the chair, next to me and turn my body to face the front – looking at the altar area, where a single chair is sitting – empty and with no person in it – then people begin to file in, filling the chairs in small amount of time that passes by.  
Javier, says nothing to me or even asks if he can look at the programme. Just, takes it off my hands and opens it, reading the part which I had bookmarked to remind where I gotten to.  
Around us, different people old and some young have sat down in the chair then tilting my head backwards, look up at the mural of the painting above my head on the domed ceiling. Some of it, has faded over time and yet, I could still see hints of who it was representing then lower my head back down to stare at the front, again.  
“I see, why you insisted, I come to this concert.” He whispers, making me turn my head slightly to see he is looking at picture of young man in his 20s and underneath a description of the piece, they will be playing.  
“Not for that purpose. I prefer sometimes to listen to music and just savour the memory of enjoying it.” I whisper, back to him and see he is looking at me then the orchestra file in to the allocated seats.  
I turn my gaze to watch as the young man, appears with his cello and sitting down flicks his eyes to the audience then is gaze lands on me at the far back. My cheeks up, slightly and soon they begin to play the piece – which I never heard before.  
Back and forth, the bow goes across the strings drawing out the beautiful, yet at the same time a haunting tune as they pay close concentration to every movement they make with it as everything seems dissolve around me, leaving only two chairs in the Opera House.  
The chair, they sit in and the one, I’m in.  
When he finishes and the Opera House, returns to normal, I bring my hands up and start to clap the young man for such a piece – as something wet trickles down the side of my cheek, which I can tell is a tear – then is followed by more clapping from the other people around me, as they join in.  
The young man, keeps his gaze on the one person that had started the clapping.  
Which was…me.  
END OF FLASHBACK

“What do you, know about him?”  
“Not much. He keeps no photographs of any family members around the house; he is single and unmarried at the age of 30; there is a hint, in the forest, that someone has been buried there.”  
“Victim or Intruder?”  
“I don’t know, it looks like the body has been there longer. So, I’m guessing he didn’t kill them.”

“Hmm. Lecter, stop eavesdropping in this conversation.” Will’s superior – Jack – says, bending down his mouth to my ear then moving my head, find what I’m looking for – which was the shape of his ear – and biting down, yank hard tearing some of it as he gives an outrage cry at it.   
I flutter my eyes open, vision soon clearing to reveal Will, looking at me with shock, horror and hint of something under his surface – he was trying very hard not to reveal to me and his Superior – then hand, harshly slaps me across the face and knocking some of the severed ear – which I ripped from Jack - out of it to land on the floor.  
“Sedate him.” I hear a voice saying, which makes me scramble upwards and feeling someone get behind, lower my head then slam it back into the face, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone breaking and muffled thud, come from behind as they fall.  
Will, brings out his gun and lunges at me with the intention of capturing me. Quickly, twisting out the way, I bring the chain between the handcuffs over his head and around his neck, tightening it as his Superior steps closer to me.  
“Tell him to tell the driver…to stop the van.” I whisper, my breath hot against Will’s neck and he gives me a glare, only to struggle when I tighten the chain – the metal, digging into his throat to draw a slight bead of blood, which trickles down the hollow of it – then lowers his head to immediately hit me with the back of his head.  
I manage to avoid it, just in the nick of time and stumble into the double doors, cheek throbbing with pain from being hit then find myself falling backwards as both the doors – left unlocked it seems, without anyone noticing – swing open.


	4. Chapter 4

Hannibal's P.O.V:  
“Don’t try to move, Mister. Everything is going be, okay.” I hear a voice saying, followed by me being hauled to my feet by two other people then vision clearing, see I’m being lead out of a ditch, located nearby the side of country road and wonder how did I get here.  
As well as when.   
Where…is this?  
I remember…the F.B.I. holding van, the double doors opening behind and falling backwards.  
But, what happened afterwards?  
I come out of my thoughts, when my legs choose to give out on me and collapse to the grassy ground with the two people, helping me to work managing to haul me back up again. They lead me, over to a Land rover, where the back door it opened and I’m helped inside then made to lay down on the back seats of it.   
They looked like University’s students. Probably, going to a some of kind of formal party, due to the suits the two men are wearing and the dress a brilliant shade of ruby red for the one of the woman, while the other wore a cream coloured one with light frills running down the sides of it.  
“What should we do…with him? Take him to Hospital?” One of the woman, says and all look at me from their car seats, shivering slightly as I wrap my arms around myself to try and keep warm then something – a blanket is being placed over me.  
“There’s no Hospital’s around here. And the nearest city, is like miles away and it also takes a long time to get there. Will have to take him with us.” One of the men, says looking at me and back to his friends then they begin to quietly whisper among themselves to discuss what should be best to do with me.  
“Mister…umm…. Is that the police!!?” They begin to say, only to say something else, making me sit up and keeping the blanket, wrapped around my shoulders then turn my face to look at Will, through the glass.   
He opens the car door, giving me a look to indicate to get out of the car.  
Sighing softly, I slip the blanket off my shoulders getting out the land rover, walk a few feet with hands in the air then I’m being forced to my knees by him, the handcuffs clinking behind me. He takes hold of my wrists, pulling them down and pressing himself up close to me, tightens them it causes me to wince slightly as bead of blood, trickles down both then I’m being hauled up to my feet by him.   
“Don’t…try anything.” He whispers in my ear, forcing me to walk over to the police car and opening the door with his free hand, shoves me inside with such I force, I land on the padded leather on my injured side.  
“Ow…Careful, I fall out a van, remember.” I say, turning my face to look at him and he slams the door in it, looking at me through the glass as I give a small smile at him then sitting up, lean my back against the padded seat.  
He soon turns his back to me, leaning against the police car door and staring at nothing. He does want to look at the person, who had laid with and arrested, due to what had transpired between us.  
“I wonder, were you told to lay with me, Will.” I mutter, under my breath and moving my cuffed hands, wince slightly to the fact the metal was starting to hurt my wrists then see on the dashboard in front of me – a handcuff key.  
Was it a test, though?  
To see, what I would do to evade capture and moving slightly, between the two front seats flick my gaze back to him, seeing he still has his back turned then clambering with some difficultly – trying not to shake the police car with movement – reach the dashboard.  
I can’t get it, with my hands and leaning my head down, pick it up with my mouth then quickly, secrete it under my tongue, only to quickly get back into the back seat. It causes, though me nearly to swallow it and manage to push it to the side of my left cheek to keep it there as he opens the door, getting in and closing it behind him.  
“Give me the key.” He says, which makes me turn my face to look at him and he turns his gaze to me then shuffling close to him, open my mouth to show him if he can find it.  
He visibly tenses at this action and closing my mouth, smirk at him then before, I can speak, he smashes his lips into mine causing my mouth to open in shock and surprise he was doing it here – in a police car, while the people he worked for stand around it, doing something I couldn’t tell what.  
His tongue, comes into play and begins to explore my moist cavern, seeking the small handcuff key I’ve hidden in my mouth then he finds it, pulling it towards his own mouth as I struggle, breathing heavily through my nostrils to try to get it back. My body is trembling all over and soon, he bites my bottom lip, which makes me wrench away from him with slight cry at it as the saliva – covered key drops onto my lap.  
“Haa…Don’t ever do, that again, Hannibal.” He says, picking up the key from my lap and after, checking the handcuffs, goes to get out the car as I breathe shakily, with my chest rising and falling under the Italian shirt, gulping down the saliva, which has built up then lunging, pull him harshly back as this causes him to close the door.  
I bring my hand up to his chin, taking hold of it and turning it then stroke my thumb, across his bottom lip – which quivers under the touch. Bending my head down to his neck, I inhale deeply his scent then fully place my lips against his, trailing them up and down to caress it.  
Soft, breathless gasps begin to come from him and sliding my other hand downwards, cup him in the confines of his trousers then his hand, suddenly takes hold of mine. He grips it, tightly in his hand and presses something into it – which I feel is the handcuff key – then I pull away from him, letting go of him.  
Noticing that he had uncuffed them, when he had gone to check them and it made wonder why as I push open the door, quietly, behind me.   
Stepping calmly, out the police car, I begin to walk backwards into the crop of trees, which cover me from anyone’s sight then turning begin to walk, stopping before I head off, to look back at the open car door - one more time at him.  
He does not turn his face. He does not look over his shoulder, just faces forwards with his back to me and or turn it to look at where I’m going then I dissolve into the shadows, allowing them to embrace and hide me from plain sight.  
But not his.   
He would always find me in the shadows, waiting for him.

Will Graham’s P.O.V:  
I had not expected - after undoing the handcuffs on Hannibal’s wrists with care so he doesn’t feel it - for him to grab hold of me then pull me, back to him the way he does. His hand, soon comes up and takes hold of my chin, turning it a certain way so I stare into his eyes then his thumb, brushes over my bottom lip, making it quiver slightly under the touch.  
His head, bends down and hear him, inhaling deeply my scent then places his lips, against my neck to trail them up and down as soft, breathless gasps come from me, while feeling his other hand slide downwards to cup me, through the confines of my trousers.  
I move my hand, taking hold of his and gripping it, tightly in my own press the handcuff key into his palm then he lets go of me, hands slipping off me with a gentle caress. He wanted me and I, wanted him as I keep my back to him, listening for any signs he had gone then turning to look over my shoulder, stare at the crop of darkened trees with the shadows seeming to swirl and pulsate like they were alive.  
Reaching over, I close the door and letting go of the door handle, sit back in the leather seats as Jack, gets in the front. He stills, turning his face immediately to me and cursing loudly, says the words to me.  
“What the hell, made you do it, Will? What made you, do it?” He asks me, staring at me and for some reason I can’t give him straight answer at all.  
Why did I do it?  
Why did I let you go, after just capturing you?  
Is it Guilt?  
Don’t think that, Will. You already know the answer.  
“I don’t know. I don’t know, why I…. did it.” I answer, lifting my head to look at him and he sighs heavily then switches the engine on.  
“I’m taking you home, Will. Sort this bloody mess in the morning, when your more with yourself and not distant like you are, now.” He says, not expecting a reply and I don’t give one as he peels the police car, where it is parked, out then drives past the land rover with the University Students, standing talking to officers and everything soon blurs into blackness as Jack, drives me home.

 

Hannibal’s P.O.V:  
Breaking into Will’s house, hadn’t really been my intention and yet, it was the only option to keep myself from getting caught back at the Mansion. His dogs – two of them – a golden Labrador and small Jack Russell, seem curious - rather than wanting to attack - about the new person, who has entered their Master’s home, through the kitchen glass door and close it, behind me.  
I stroke the head of them, both and smile softly down at them then look around at his plain, simple house. It had every necessary requirement he needed and looked cosy to my eye, where I could imagine had I met him well before I become what I am now.  
My life, might been different and we could have had a child to raise normally, between us.   
I walk through to the kitchen, checking the cupboards and see in one of them he has a vary of spices labelled with post-it notes to remind him then check the fridge, which is rather depressing seeing it only has milk in it, which after smelling it can tell it has gone off.  
“Will, oh, Will.” I mutter under my breath, rolling up my sleeves as I look over to very disorganised dish pile in the sink, looking like they hadn’t been washed for today then heading over, take them all out.  
So, after unclogging the sink; taking the very large rubbish bag out and placing it in one of the Neighbour’s bin as his was looking completely fill of not his rubbish, but others; making sure the dogs, got something to eat and fresh water in the food bowls, after rinsing them both out then place the oven on for supper, which I had decided to cook for is both.  
Other activities, I do as well and satisfied it was all of them done, lean against the kitchen counter to look at very tidy kitchen, with floor washed as well – with some hilarity as the dogs, kepted trying to jump on me and join in – while, upstairs the guest bedroom had been sorted and packed boxes, which still had not been opened placed safely out of harm’s way.  
A car, pulling up outside the front door makes me un-lean from the counter and heading into the sitting room, go over to the fireplace to place the logs on it then lighting it, stoke it so the room wouldn’t be cold when he finally got in.  
Standing up, straight I head back through to the kitchen and over to the oven – where a roast chicken with some mixed veg, which I had brought from the late night open Supermarket that was close by to his house – to check it, that the food inside was doing alright.  
His dog’s, sensing their Master is coming in go through to the sitting room and going to the kitchen doorway, watch silently as he opens the door. Stepping soon inside, while their tails wag with joy and happiness then he frowns, lifting his head to look straight at me.  
He says nothing, just closes the door behind him and locking it with his key, places the bolt across it then looks around at his now, tidy home. He slides off his coat, hanging it up on the coat hanger and pauses, seeing it is no longer askew instead it is straight then resumes putting his coat up.  
“Did…you….do all this.” He asks me, indicating everything and sniffs the air. “And that can’t be Roast chicken, can it?”  
“Hmm, let’s eat first. I don’t want it going to waste.” I say, which makes him follow me into the kitchen and comes around me, staring at his kitchen – like it had somehow changed overnight – then comes back up to me.  
“Yeah, umm…Good idea.” He says, still with dazed look on his face and going over to the oven, I slip the oven gloves on to take the dish with the Roast Chicken in it out.  
Steam rises in the air, when I open the oven and bending down, take hold of the dish with care as I feel is gaze on my behind, which makes me quickly stand up straight with the dish in both my hands.   
He is watching me and turning fully around, place it down on the kitchen counter then must slap his hand to stop from trying to take a piece of it.  
“Wait until, were at the table. Or else, I feed it to them.” I say, which makes him step closer to me and places his hand, over mine on which is resting on the counter then clasps his fingers in mine.  
“I remember…you said…when we were making…...Love. You said, “Give me, everything of you.” And it made me, think…what did you mean by that.” He says, voice going husky in the process and leans forwards, brushing his lips attentively against mine in chaste kiss.  
He pulls back, still clasping his fingers with mine and not letting go of my hand then let’s go of my hand, walking out of the kitchen leaving me to stand there, alone. I turn my gaze to look out of the large kitchen glass windows, looking at my own reflection and the inky blackness of his back garden.  
“What do we see in a mirror? Only the reflection, which does not show who we truly are.” I hear myself saying in the silence of the kitchen and hear the reply coming from him.  
“It is only, ourselves who can show who we truly are.” He says, making me tear my gaze away from the window to look at him, standing near the kitchen door and he goes over to the drainage rack, getting some plates and cutlery for the both of us.

 

“I had difficult childhood. I had a Twin Brother – Malcom – and he was always there for me, when I was little. What about you, Hannibal?”

“Me? Well, I had sister called Mischa and she was the sweetest, sister one could ever have. She…always relied on my protection then one day…”  
I stop talking, placing my fork down as I remember her death, so vividly it causes a single tear to trickle down my cheek then bringing my hand up, quickly wipe it away so he doesn’t notice. He has and takes hold of my hand, pulling it down to rest on the table and brings his own, back up to cup my cheek with it.  
It is becoming too much and taking hold of his hand, lower it back down then get out the chair to just get away from him to calm myself near the glowing fireplace. I wrap my arms around myself, holding or more gripping them tightly, there will be probably bruises in the morning then a hand taps my arm.  
I turn, seeing he is looking at me with concern like before and turns my body to fully face him. I keep my face turned away, looking at the fire – crackling in the fireplace – and out the corner of my eye, see he wants to say something to me.  
“You may stay, here. Tonight, with me.” He says, moving away from me and begins to clear away the dishes from the table.  
“Will, are you really prepared for the consequences if your Superior finds out?” I ask him, which stops him from going into the kitchen with the empty dishes and he turns his face to look at me, standing near his fireplace.  
A Murderer.  
A Killer.  
A Cannibalistic One, mixed together to create one separate identity which was me.  
“Jack, probably already knows.” Is all he says to me and the kitchen door, closes behind him as I bring my hand up to loosen my tie, followed by unbuttoning the shirt and waistcoat I’m wearing.

 

It’s in the middle of the night, I’m woken up by laboured breathing coming from Will and opening my eyes, see he is shaking so much it is causing his body to spasm then I get over him on my hands and knees, with my hands either side of his head on the stark blue pillow – which looks dark blue.  
Sweat is starting to seep through the t-shirt he is wearing for bed and bending my head down, nudge it upwards with my nose as he twitches slightly then managing to get it up to reveal his chest to me. I place my lips, softly on his skin and trail upwards to one of his nipples, flicking my tongue over it to test his reaction.  
He does not wake, so continue what I’m doing and fully take it into my mouth, slowly swirling my tongue around it as small, breathless gasps start to come from him then bite down on it, slightly with my teeth drawing some blood. His hands, fist into the mattress sheet at it and suckling, close my eyes slightly at the taste of iron of his blood then let go of it to trail my lips downwards to the seam of his boxers. Gently, I pull them down and flick my eyes up to him to check he is still dreaming then pull them back up, again.  
Savouring it. There was plenty of time to take things slow with him and this one of them then he rolls to lay on his side, while I move back to my original place then sorting myself, lay with my back to him.   
Both of us facing, opposite directions this time, instead of how he had embraced me from behind and held me in his arms as we slepted after our “Lovemaking” then rolling to lay on my back, look up at the ceiling in the inky, blackness as sleep comes to me.  
NIGHTMARE SCENE:  
A - Stag - chooses to appear, clambering onto the bed without it dipping under its weight and gets over me, placing clawed hands either side of my head as it blackened pupils consider mine, reflecting me like they are made of glass then it bends down its head.   
It has his face.  
It looks like him.  
It looks like…. Javier!!  
It’s antlers, fully encompass me and gives me a look of anger then it flips me onto front.  
A knife appears – a Hunter’s knife – gleaming in the strip of moonlight and my head is soon, wrenched backwards by my hair – so harshly, it makes me cry out at it – then the knife is placed right up against my throat as lips touch my ear.  
“You betrayed me, my little Silver Doe. Time for your recompense.” It whispers, using his voice and yet, echoing around us in the silence of the bedroom then slashes across my throat, severing it instantly as blood spurts outwards onto the bed; wall and headboard.  
Splattering the wall in crimson petals, which form and bloom on the places, where they have landed into flowers with the deepest shade of red I ever seen.  
It doesn’t stop there and brings the knife down to my abdomen, stabbing inwards as something flashes across my eyes – a image of small foetus, curled up inside my hidden womb and the all of it going crimson - then pulls it, slowly back out as labourly gasp with my heart furiously pounding against my ribcage and soon, jerk when they stab the knife into my chest – where it rests.  
I fall to one side, sinking into the mattress and it pulls me down, like I had fallen into water then my eyes slip close, blackness covering it as the Monster of the Deep’s tentacles rise from the abyss to drag me down into its embrace.  
END OF NIGHTMARE SCENE

 

Will Graham’s P.O.V:  
The morning sun, filtering through a gap in the curtain and shining down onto the bed, makes me lay there just to savour the brief warmth then my phone vibrating on the bedside chest of drawers, makes me blurrily open my eyes. Pulling the cover back, I swing my leg out of the bed and notice at some point in the night, my shirt had managed to ride its way up my chest and so shrug it back down, wincing slightly when it brushes against one of my nipples – which felt like it been suckled, bitten and licked last night – then picking up my phone, see I’ve missed a call from Jack.  
I get up, heading to the bathroom and going to the bathroom mirror, look back at the bed. Hannibal, is not there and sorting myself, decide I need a shower to relieve the tension I’m feeling in my body then begin to peel of the sweat soaked t-shirt and boxers.  
Dropping them onto the floor and standing naked in the bathroom, look at myself then wrap my arms around myself, trembling at the fact. At the fact, which deep down inside, I could no longer deny it – Hannibal and me, are slowly falling in…...Love with each other.


	5. Chapter 5

Hannibal's P.O.V:  
The large park, is empty and only full of handful of certain people enjoying themselves in the crisp, morning air. A dog owner in the far distance, throwing a ball for his spaniel to catch; a romantic couple, holding hands and chatting among themselves; a ball rolling over to me and stopping by my feet as little boy, runs up to collect it.   
He can’t reach it, so bending down myself pick it up and hand to him as he looks at me with childlike curiousity at the stranger, who had given his ball back to him then his Mother, calling him back draws him out of the haze he is in. He turns, running off and only looks back one more time as I find myself smiling in amusement at his curiousness then notice, heading my way is Will’s Superior – Jack Crawford. He walks past the Mother and child, not saying anything, just “Good morning” and comes up to the park bench, I’m sitting on then sits down next to me.  
“Where is he?” He asks, going straight into interrogation mode with me and smirk lightly at the way he is doing it.  
“Sleeping, Jack. Oh, don’t give me that look. Why would…. I...” I begin to answer him, only to stop myself from saying anymore and getting off the bench, begin to walk down the long avenue with spindly tree’s either side – looking like long fingers, trying to pull people into their grasp – then something bowls into me, with such force as hot dog breath hits my cheek and find myself falling onto the ground with a sickening thud as manage to twist my body so I don’t land heavily on my injured hip side.  
Pain though not from the impact, but originating from my abdomen makes me hunch slightly over myself and place a hand over it then I find myself heaving up onto the gravel of the Roast chicken, mixed with vegetables. It splatters everywhere, making the dog owner pull his spaniel away and giving cry of disgust at it then I’m being helped to my feet by…Jack. He hands me, a handkerchief and quickly, just in time moves his hand out the way as I heave, again with such force it causes pain to ripple throughout me.  
“F... cking hell. What’s wrong with him?” The Spaniel owner asks and I’m wanting to know as well, because never had felt this way before then slump in the grip, which is holding me up. My eyes, feel heavy and try to keep them open then running footsteps, make me lift my head slightly to see Will, coming up to me. I’m pulled away from the site of where I had been violently sick and handed over to him then he leads me away, across the grass and keeps on walking into large crop of trees near large holly bush – which towers above us.  
“I....need to lay down. I feel like….” I begin to whisper, only to sway forwards and he catches me, lowering me to the ground then tilts my chin up, seeing my flushed face – sweat which already formed, running down it in thick droplets – and breath coming short, laboured gasps then places the back of his hand on my forehead to check my temperature.  
“Feel nauseous and…Jesus!!, your burning up, Hannibal.” He whispers, helping me up and gripping me, tightly to him, the both of us begin to walk out the park, heading to car parking space.  
He leads me over to his Superior’s car, opening the back door and getting in with me, pulls me close to him as I rest my head on his chest – reminding of the time, when I admitted to him I had never had a Lover – then Jack Crawford, gets in starting the engine as he looks through the driver’s mirror to look at us both. Or, more particularly me – watching how my chest rises and falls, heavily under the woollen coat – and how, I look at his reflection then lowers his head to pay attention to peeling the car out of the parking space.

 

“Easy, hold onto me. It’s okay.” Will whispers, helping me into his house and holding him like he had said, bring my both my legs up to wrap around his waist as soon as he closes the door, behind us.  
He locks it, sliding the bolt back in place and moving his other hand takes hold of me, hitching me up more on him then carries me, over to the bed. I’m laid down on it, still weak and feverish from whatever was hitting my system then begins to take off what I’m wearing, until all I’m in is the boxers – which have started to cling to hips with sweat – then he lifts my legs, sliding them off. He chucks the sweat soaked clothes in the washing bin and hangs the coat back up on the coat rack then heading into the kitchen, comes back out with a one of the cake bowls and goes into the bathroom with it.  
A tap running, water gushing down into the drain hole reaches my ears and turning my head, watch him silently as he fills it with some cold water then coming back through, pulls a chair close to the bed. He places the bowl down on it and goes back into the bathroom to get small flannel then comes back out, sitting down on the bed – which dips slightly under his weight. He soaks the flannel, squeezing out the excess water into the bowl and bringing it over to me, leans over me. Dabbing it over my forehead; neck and other parts of my heated, feverish body.  
It is relaxing and with such tender care from him, I just lay there allowing him to do it then he stills, when he reaches my abdomen. I flick my gaze to him and he bends down his head, placing his lips against mine to kiss me, lightly then pulls back from me to look down at me. He places the cloth to one side, clambering onto the bed and getting over me then bends down, kissing me again as my eyes flutter close at the gentleness of it and kiss him, back.  
Both of us, move our lips against each-other’s and taking hold of him, flip him onto his back so I’m straddling him like before. He continues to kiss me, sifting his hand through my hair and changing positions, hear him moan breathlessly my name it makes me pull back from his lips – a small strand of saliva, connecting them – to look down at him. I clamber backwards, getting off the bed and grabbing a nightgown, which he had placed over the back of chair then shrug it on – glad it is long enough to cover my nakedness – as he watches me.  
“I…. We shouldn’t be being doing this, Will. I... need to go home.” I say, heading over to where my clothes in his wardrobe are and getting them out then placing them on the bed, slide the nightgown off – slowly – and begin to put my clothes on.  
“Then, promise me…you won’t kill anyone and…do what you do.” He says, making me pause in buttoning up the shirt collar and letting go of the last three buttons, slip my waistcoat on then after buttoning it up, sort the cufflinks on my wrists.  
“I can’t promise you, Will. It’s in my nature and I can’t control sometimes what I do. You of all, should know that.” I say, shrugging on the suit jacket and keeping that unbutton then walk over to the coat rack hanger, taking down the long woollen coat, one of his scarfs and the leather gloves – I had brought myself.  
“Will I see you, again?” He asks me, making me look back one more time before I step out onto his front porch and see he is planning to hunt me for once.  
“Rome. I’ll be in Rome, if you need me. A nice place, with a fine restaurant I know of, which I wish I could invite you too.” I answer, stepping out into the coldness of the night and closing the front door behind me, begin to walk home to make sure it was still intact.

 

“One ticket to Rome.”  
“Yes.”  
“Single flight or Return.”  
“Single. I won’t be returning for a while.”  
“Alright, then. Here you are.”  
“Thank you.”  
The Airport is quiet, with some people waiting for their flights to come in or waiting for people to arrive from one’s which had yet, not come in then a tannoy, calls out the flight to Rome has come in.   
Getting out the seat, I walk over and down the flight corridor then stepping to one side in front of the flight people – who check passports and tickets, in case of forgery – pull the hat, down lower to make it seem it was starting to slide off.  
I hand the ticket over with passport, which they check against a printed sheet paper of different forged passports then satisfied I wasn’t among them, hand it back to me. I take if off them and heading past it, walk down into the plane then head to where my seat is allocated.  
Sitting down, I place the duffel bag on the floor at my feet and go to sit back in the chair, when my phone vibrates in it. I get it out, unlocking it and see a text message is waiting to be read, so open it then going to create new message, place my hand on one of the buttons.  
No….it wasn’t a good idea and switching the phone off, turn it over to take out the battery then after placing it back in the bag, get out of the seat and head to the toilet cubicle.  
Inside the cubicle, I take out the pregnancy testing kit and leaning against the wall, know I must do it to check to see whether it was what was affecting me or I just had Will, had said got a brief fever from being out in the cold, far too long from evading capture.

 

“Sir, are you alright? Do you need some medical assistance?”  
“No, thank you. First time on a plane that’s all.”  
“Okay, Sir.”  
I head back to my seat, sitting down in it and turn my face to look out the window as the plane, begins to peel off the runway leaving behind an array of glittering lights of the city. I shouldn’t hadn’t really looked at the pregnancy testing kit – the positive sigh flashing, before my eyes – and yet, I had done so to make sure I was correct in what I thought was wrong with me.  
Moving my hand, I rest it on my abdomen – underneath the blanket, which I had wrapped around me – and begin to think it was going to be difficult to raise this child – his child, now starting to grow within my hidden womb – while staying in Rome.  
But, it was the only way to protect the both of us from harm and raise my baby, without it ever knowing who it’s Father is. Like, before I had gained something and this time, I would not lose what I had been given.  
Around me, people on the flight are either chatting among themselves or sleeping as the plane, flies through the night sky over an ocean of liquid blackness. It brings back the memory of when me and Javier, had been on his private yacht sailing it, across a black ocean with the moonlight shining down on the water.  
I had been, just about to turn 20 and remember the kiss, he had given me as my first ever proper one then in the bed suite of the yacht, on top of silk covers he took me without asking my consent.  
A way of showing me, he was in control of me and there was nothing, I could do about.  
The past it seemed, I try to keep hidden was slowly, being dug up and exposed to the light by Will then come out of the memory, when one of the stewardesses comes up to check that everyone is doing alright then stops in front of me.  
“Sir, would you like anything to drink?” She asks me, which makes me turn my gaze from the window to look at her.  
“A glass of water. And if you don’t mind, some headache tablets if you have any.” I answer, which makes her nod silently and heads to the back of the plane to get what I’ve asked for.  
Turning my gaze out the window, I see it is starting to become dawn with the clouds turning a shade of bright pink, yellow and orange then glass of water is placed down in front of me by the woman, along with some headache tablets.  
She leaves, heading back to asking other people if they want anything and picking up the glass of water, take a sip of it then notice what had been left underneath it – a small note, with her phone number.  
A small smirk rises on my lips at it and folding it, place it in my pocket then sit back, finishing off the glass of water as I enjoy like everyone else the rest of the flight finally reaching Rome.


	6. Chapter 6

Hannibal’s P.O.V:  
“Here.”  
“Thank you. Your so kind in giving me a drink.”  
“Well, your beautiful lady and that bottle of Wine, has really being waiting for someone to drink it.”  
“Aren’t you having any?”  
“No. Doctor’s orders. Can’t have any alcohol for few days.”  
“Oh, well in that case. All the lot for me, then.”  
The Stewardess from the Airport flight to Rome, laughs softly when she says it and picking up the bottle of Wine, places it in front of herself on the small coffee table then notices my gaze on her.  
She is probably reading it as something and not what I was thinking of the way she was going to die then be cooked nicely of course. She takes sip, placing it down on the table and turns slightly in the chaise lounge in the Apartment – which had belonged to someone, which I had brought it off – then cups my cheek, with her hand and leans close to me.  
Her perfume – so intoxicating and making me, feel to confess lightheaded – fills my nostrils then she kisses me on the lips, gently to test my reaction. I lick my lips, slightly and soon feel something like the muzzle of a gun press into my abdomen.   
She has it resting, right where my child is growing and feeling protection for my child, rising lunge at her as she tries to pull the trigger of the small woman’s gun then managing to fling it away, grab the corkscrew from the coffee table.  
What I do next, is horrific and something new as blood splatters everywhere onto the floor, chaise lounge and her dress then sitting up, look down at the still body of her.   
Ripping the dress, apart I find what made me immediately suspicious of her actions and taking the wire rip it off then slide of the chaise lounge, heading over to bathroom where putting up the toilet seat look one more time at the cheap wire.   
Someone not Government, had sent her after me and dropping it down the toilet then flush it, watching it disappear in the swirling cyclone water.  
I head back through, rolling my sleeves up and lifting my head, see my dead body has moved leaving a nice, blood trail to tell me where she is trying to head.   
I follow it, through to the Grand library, which was part of her apartment and see she is crawling on the polished floor, covering it in long stream of blood – which looks perfect in the faint light, streaming through the gaps in the large curtains – then walking up to her, come around her.   
Her eyes, go wide and she spits a mouthful of blood onto my leather shoes then manages to haul herself up, using the writing desk for support and reaches for the telephone.  
She tries to call the Rome Police Headquarters and keeps on redialling the number then smirking in amusement, pick up the severed cord to show I was already way ahead of her.   
The telephone, drops onto the floor and grabbing hold of her from behind, place the knife against her throat then slice hard, severing it hard as blood spurts out like gushing fountain covering the floor in a thick pool of it.   
She tries to bring her hand up to severed throat and turns, spraying me with her blood coating my clothes and face in it then falls to the floor at my feet with a sickening thud.  
“Oh, dear. Guess you don’t get to drink all the wine, now.” I say, smirking at the still, dead body and squat down to inspect it more then begin to figure out my “Design” for her as her eyes, reflect a killer coated in crimson.  
Only I would know, who had killed her.  
She would be sending message to Rome’s Head of Police that …… Ill Mostro…. had returned.

 

Will Graham’s P.O.V:  
“Welcome to Rome.”  
“Thank you, I’m Detective Jack Crawford of the F.B.I Behavioural and Investigative Unit and this is my co-worker – Will Graham.”  
“Ahh, yes. The Empath, who can see how a Murderer has killed.”  
“You told him.”  
“No.”  
“I’m sorry, it’s just I knew once your Twin Brother…Malcom, I believe he was called.  
“Yes.”  
“He was Empath. But, it become too much for him and he disappeared. He was never found. I’m digging up the past, sorry. Alright, let’s head to the crime scene.”  
Being in Rome, is different from being in my hometown and wonder was Hannibal, around watching me from afar or was he keeping himself hidden so he wouldn’t get caught seeing me.   
I never actually known, my Twin Brother Malcom had been an Empath like me and with the ability to what I did at Crime scenes then double doors, leading into Grand Library swing open as the Detective, who had called Jack from Rome leads us inside.   
I do not expect the scene in front of me and find myself stepping to one side like Jack does as I notice the long trail of blood leading up to the body of the dead Stewardess, which makes everything dissolve around me.  
VISION SCENE:  
(This scene is where Will, visualises how Hannibal killed the Plane Stewardess. Told in certain P.O.V because of Will experiencing the presence of the killer)  
We follow the trail of blood to the Grand Library of the Apartment, seeing how she is crawling towards the writing desk on the polished floor leaving behind a perfect trail of blood – which gleams perfectly in the in the faint light, streaming through gaps in the large curtains – then walking up to her, come around her.  
Her eyes go wide and soon giving a glare, she immediately spits a mouthful of blood onto our leather shoes then manages to get up, using the writing desk for support and to our amusement tries to call the Rome Police Headquarters.  
Panicking she keeps on redialling the number then smirking in amusement, pick up the sever cord to show we’re already way ahead of her.   
The telephone, drops onto the floor and grabbing hold of her, from behind place the knife against her throat then slice hard, severing it hard. Her blood spurts out like gushing fountain covering the floor in a thick pool of it.   
She tries to bring her hand up to severed throat and turns around, spraying us with her blood coating my clothes and face in it then falls to the floor at my feet with a sickening thud.  
“Oh, dear. Guess you don’t get to drink all the wine, now.” We say, smirking at the still, dead body and squat down to inspect it more then begin to figure out our “Design” for her as her eyes, reflect a killer coated in crimson.  
Only We would know, who had killed her.  
She would be sending message to Rome’s Head of Police that …… Ill Mostro…. had returned.  
END OF VISION SCENE  
I come out of the vision of how the female victim had been killed. Walking over to the body, keeping off the bloodied path, look up at the body, with the hands forced in certain way to make it look like she was opening her chest up to reveal only her ribcage – which was empty of her heart and lungs, which had rested there when she had been alive – and her throat had been severed so, brutally I could see the white bone underneath which had congealed blood around it on her neck.  
What made you do it…Hannibal?  
What made you kill this woman?  
I ask myself in my head, noticing something underneath the writing desk and going around the naked body, kneel on one knee to see what it is. Reaching for it, I see and frown at the sametime at the small plastic object in my hand – a pregnancy testing kit, with a positive sign on it – meaning something of significance.   
Clasping it tightly in my hand, I get up and standing up, straight then look over to Jack, talking with the Detective – who told me, he had known Malcolm in the past – then slipping it into my pocket, decide I need some fresh air.   
I head out of the Grand Library and going to the landing, stop when I see the door which lead into the sitting room then step inside, seeing how the trail of blood starts from the blood-soaked chaise lounge.  
You were here, Hannibal.  
You brought her here to this Apartment and you gave her some of your wine.  
You didn’t drink it, though, yourself.  
Why…. didn’t you drink it yourself?  
Where are…you now?  
I come out of my thoughts, going over to the curved window to look at the city of Rome with the sun, setting over the horizon as I wonder wherever he was – was he looking at the same view, like I am – then Jack, comes up to me.   
He stands next to me, looking down at the people below, going back and forth their everyday lives and flicks his eyes over to the chaise lounge – covered in blood.  
“You, do know what this means, Will.” Jack says, quietly breaking the stillness of the room and turns his face to look at me as I just continue to stare out the window, looking at my reflection in the paned glass of it.  
Of course, I do.  
It means…. every Shadow…he tries to hide in will be searched.  
You won’t give up, chasing him, Jack.  
You’ll do what you can to make him pay.  
“Do you, Jack?” I ask him, coming out of those thoughts and turning my gaze away from the window, look at him with the question hovering in the air, between us.

Hannibal’s P.O.V:  
“Hannibal, why have you come here?” Bedelia, asks me as she comes up to the window as I stand in front of it with my arms crossed over my chest and try not to think of the fact, out there somewhere someone – who was also a Predator, like me – is hunting me.  
“To get away from something. Something, that is affecting me.” I whisper in reply, not expecting her to hear or even acknowledge I’ve said anything.  
“And is this something…serious?” She asks me, making me keep my gaze to look out the window of her Apartment – which was built slightly different from mine – then find myself, gripping my arms tightly again like before.  
“I…feel…strange around him. When…I’m with…him, I feel comfortable and…safe. To confess…. we made love, together and….” I begin to say, trying to finish off the rest of the sentence, only for my voice to break so much I can’t get the words out.  
I try again. Only to have to unwrap my arms from around my chest to place one hand on the glass – which feels cold to touch – and pressing myself up against the window, breathe shakily against it to cover it in a fine mist.   
Already, it was showing the sighs I’m being affected by his “Love” for me and turning my body, fully around find myself slipping down the glass to slump on the floor.  
“Hannibal!!? Are...you…alright?” She asks me, taking hold of both my cheeks and tilting my face up so I consider her concerned face then moves away from me, heading over to the drink decanter as I hear her pouring a glass of water from the glass jug.  
She soon comes back over, unbuttoning my shirt collar with her hand and placing the rim of the glass against my lips then taking hold the back of my head, takes hold of it as she helps me drink some of it.   
The perfume, which she wears wafts up my nostrils faintly and reminds of my Mother’s perfume – she had used to wear – then push the glass of water away to tell Bedelia, I’ve had enough.  
“I’m going to use your bathroom, if you don’t mind.” I say, allowing her to help me up and she let’s go of me then walking over to the double door’s – which lead into the bathroom – slide off the suit jacket then allow it to fall to floor with a muffled thump.  
She comes up, behind me and collects it off the floor then opening the door, I step into the bathroom and head over to the large bath, turning the taps to fill it with hot water as I begin to strip myself of the rest of my clothes.

Will’s P.O.V:  
The water is lukewarm, relieving the tension in my body and bones, while I lay in the Hotel Bath as the steam rises and curls in front of me then sliding more down in the water, tilt my head backwards to lay it on the towel on the back of bathtub.  
My mind is wandering – the thoughts, which I’m thinking not staying in it – and closing my eyes, just listen quietly to the water sloshing slightly in the tub as I move my hand to rest on my hip. Resting for wee while to calm myself.  
DREAM SEX SCENE:  
The forest is quiet, unearthly still with no noises coming from the trees above my head then coming to the middle of clearing, see their small pool with a waterfall falling into it.   
I ascend into it and wading into the centre of it then wait, keeping my eyes closed and soon, the water ripples around me as something or someone rises out of the water then fluttering my eyes open, see it is Hannibal.  
He looks at me, chest rising and falling with water droplets running down it in thick rivulets then he pushes me backwards into the water, which immediately turns into a soft bed of moss – which is spread out before me – as the both of us land on it with a muffled thump then gets over me on his hand and knees.  
“Will, I…need…you. I’m so hot, right…haa…now it literally…feels like I’m burning up, inside.” He gasps out, breathlessly and grabbing hold of him, roll him to lay on his back then flipping him onto his back, bend my lips down to his ear.  
“Get…up, on your hands and knees.” I whisper to him, which makes him do as I say and moving my hands, place them on his ass-cheeks then parting them, cup him from behind and slip my fingers into his moist folds of his hidden sex as he arches his back at it.  
I begin to slip it in and out, feeling his juices start to flow from being touched by just my fingers then he begins to rock his hips back and forth into it, to feel them going deeper within him. He still stays on his hand and knees, head tilted backwards and wanting me so much he presses himself up against me then turns his face to look at me over his shoulder at me.  
I pull my hand back, making him give a soft whimper at the loss of it and getting over him, mount him with my hips pushing forwards as I find myself slipping into his moist, warmness with just a single thrust, from behind. Soon, sliding my hands to his hips, I take hold of them and begin to undulate my hips into his, jolting his body back and forth.  
He is enjoying it, pushing back his hips in sync with mine and moving one of my own hands, I take hold of the back of his head – entangling it with his hair – then pull it backwards to expose his neck more, which makes him moan my name.  
“Willll!!?”  
END OF DREAM SEX SCENE  
I shoot up, splashing the bath water everywhere – onto the bathroom floor of the Hotel Bathroom and covering the tiles in it – with breathless gasp at the fact, I had just experienced that kind of dream of me and Hannibal, making love together in a place behind a waterfall on a bed of moss.  
I felt at home there in the forest and with him as I get up, allowing for the water to run down my body then plip back into the water – making tiny ripples in the process – and getting out of the tub, drain the bath of it.  
I stand there after the water has gone, looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror of a man – who once had not been the way, he was now – then grabbing one of the towels from the rack, head out of the bathroom as I use another to dry my hair.  
My bags, which are at the foot of the bed are not unpacked and all communications with Hannibal, had been cut off as it seems he had either gotten rid of it or taken out the battery so he couldn’t be tracked.  
I unzip the first one, taking out some fresh clothes for tomorrow and laying them out on the bed then before I can even react – a cloth coated with something sweet smelling on it, covers my mouth – and making me, struggle against the person’s body. My head is forced to one side, while they press the cloth tighter to my mouth and nostrils then a wave of dizziness overwhelms me as I slump against them, trying in vain to keep my eyes open.  
But, I can’t. It feels like, a great weight has been placed over my eyes and has I’m lowered to the floor, I see in the wardrobe mirror – who they are – then my eyes slip close, with blackness sweeping in and covering everything.


	7. Chapter 7

(Author’s Note - WARNINGS – Mild bit of How Hannibal, got the Brand on his back and brief hint of Sexual Assualt. Both not in full graphic detail, because one doesn’t write that way. And one knows it isn’t accurate timeline, because one has not yet seen the series.)  
Hannibal’s P.O.V:  
FLASHBACK SCENE:  
“HOLD HIM DOWN!!? COME ON!!?  
“THAT’S IT. KEEP HIM, PINNED DOWN LIKE THAT.”

My heart is thudding, threatening to escape my ribcage as I’m harshly pinned to the floor of a Stable pen by two large thugs then my head is suddenly wrenched back so violently by my hair, it makes me grit my teeth to silence the pained cry which wants to escape from me.  
I would not show – my Captor – any weakness and glare at him with my eyes as he steps closer into the faint light – the sunlight flooding down into the Stable Barn – then a leather gloved hand, immediately slaps me across the face with such force it sends blood droplets flying into the air.  
A cry echoes in the Stables – making him smirk at me – and grabs hold of my chin, gripping it tightly then I spit hard in their eyes, making them stumble backwards at the action and bring their hand up to their face.  
“So, is this your answer.” He says to me, while I feel something being placed around my neck and before I can say anything, a rope pulls my head backwards – almost choking me in the process – then hands grab my wrists, spreading my arms out and pulling them behind my back to tie together as the leather collar is tightened around my neck.  
I been forced into certain position and cannot even get free from the ropes – because the end of them are tied to rungs behind my back – then my Captor, goes over to a large blast furnace, the door opened to reveal it has been lit at some point and takes hold of something, hidden amongst the glowing, red hot coal.  
He pulls it out, revealing to my eyes – a distinct metal rod with on the end on it, a Brand – and comes over to me, going behind me as I try not to think of the pain it causes then harsh, blinding pain sears across every part of my body from my back as the smell of burning flesh soon fills my nostrils.  
I manage to keep myself quiet, not giving satisfaction to my Captor and keep on gritting my teeth, through the pain it causes me.  
When it finishes, I sag in the bonds that are holding me up and can feel a bead of sweat – which had formed – running down my forehead to plip onto the hay then feel their sickly, hot breath against my neck, with their lips touching my ear.  
“Any questions, Mare?” They ask me, smirking and place a hand on my back, below the Brand – which been burned into my skin – then slips their leather gloved hand, further downwards to the seam of my boxers.  
“Just this. When I…get out of these ropes, I’m going to sever your throat from left to right so your blood spills on the same place…you violated that woman.” I whisper, causing them to still their hand which had been about to pull back the seam of them then they growl something to one of the other thugs.

Afterwards, breathing heavily and trembling so much, I bring my hands up to the collar then pulling it hard, feel the leather snap as look at the two dead bodies of the thugs with one having no eyes – well, no longer in the places they used to rest – then grabbing one of the bodies, strip it of all the clothes and do the same to the other one.  
A knife is in the pocket of one of the Jackets, handy and helpful as a shadow suddenly, covers me then whirling around it, kick their feet out from underneath as I twist and straddling them hard, grab their arm breaking it immediately to make sure they can’t use it.  
“I did tell you, I would. Well, let me think. What was it again?” I say, also asking myself the question as I bend my face down to their eye level.  
They immediately lunge at me, hitting me hard as they manage to pin me down onto the hay on my front, where a hand grabs my wrist of the hand – which holds the knife – then tightens with such strength as I only manage to flip myself onto my back, slashing at their cheek.  
It doesn’t stop them, while they suddenly shove their hips forwards into mine with such force it causes me to let go of the knife and they take it off me then grabbing my hands, grab a piece of rope to attached to one of the rungs. They twist me, placing me on my front – after tying my hands together by the wrists to it – then forcing my hips up, pull out of me.  
They shove back in, slamming into my hidden entrance and causing me to arch slightly at the impact of it then begin to move, jolting my body back and forth with each thrust as skin slapping against skin fills the Stable Barn.  
I find myself, due to the powerful thrusts collapsing onto my elbows and with my head lowered to the ground then notice among the hay, something which glints and catches my eye. Because, their so absorbed in their lustful pleasure and not paying attention to me, I make it seem I’m enjoying this by rearing up to the wall then they press closer to me, falling for the trick.  
I lean down my head, placing my lips against the rope and pulling one part, manage to loosen it enough to slip one of my hands free from the bonds then go to reach for it, when they choose at the inconvenient time to flip me onto my side, grabbing hold of one of my legs to bend upwards to hold in the crook of their elbow.  
For some reason, it stops me from achieving my task and find myself starting to gasp breathlessly at the deeper, spreading warmth which is starting to rise inside me then wetness seeps down the inside of my thighs, forcing me to immediately grab hold of the object.  
Gripping it, I suddenly find myself having to let go of it as it clunks to the Stable pen floor and fist my hands into the hay, because they are pounding into me so hard it is sending shockwave after shockwave of pain, mixed to my shame and horror – pleasure as well – up my spine then grab the hook, gripping it tightly this time.  
“Good, Mare. Goo…. GAHHHH!!!?” They begin to say, only cry out when I stab the hook straight into one of their eyeballs – hearing the satisfied squelching come from the stab – as they pull away from me then kicking them hard in the chest, get over them holding it above them as they look at me with now wide, terrified eyes.  
Then, slam it down again and again, stabbing with such force blood – like crimson petals – showers onto the Stable pen; wall and onto the hay then lean back, sit up on the still body of the very dead thug – the man who forced himself on me, like I was to him some kind of Whore – and getting off it, stand up straight.  
A noise, faint and distant makes me turn my head then stumbling slightly, due to the fact I’m still hurting from being sexually assaulted by the Hired Thug. Reaching the double barn doors, I step back when a torchlight beam, shines underneath the crack.  
Looking at the hook- which is evidence and the murder weapon - I chuck it into the blazing blast furnace and lowering my hand, stand in front of them – after closing the blast furnace door, with one of the dead’s guys hands. The double Stable barn door’s soon smash open to reveal the Police Force of Rome then to complete the act, I was the victim here, allow my legs to give out on me. Falling to one side on the grassy ground and lay there, curled up in a foetal position as I start to tremble – so don’t need to act it.  
“HURRY!! GET ME AN AMBULANCE, IMMEDIATELY.”  
“Yes, Dectective Serino.”  
“Just, hold on, Sir. We’re getting you…. Santa Maria, your shivering. Come here.”  
I move, crawling into the warmth of the Detective’s chest and resting my head on the chest then feel something being placed around my shoulders – a blanket – and hauled to my feet is helped over to the ambulance by them. They don’t let go of me, just bring me over to the it then I slump in the grip, hearing them shout for a “Medic” as blackness sweeps in and remember nothing from thereafter.  
END OF FLASHBACK  
“Hannibal!!?...Hannibal!!?”  
Bedelia, saying my name more than once to get my attention makes me come out of the memory of when I had gotten the brand and met the Head Detective Serino – deceased now, though after shooting himself due to unforeseen reasons – then turn my gaze to look at her, seeing she has something to tell me.  
“What? Is something wrong?” I ask her, which makes her haul me out of the armchair near the fireplace in her Apartment and over to the telephone then hands it to me, making me wonder who was calling her at this kind of night.  
“Yes.”  
“Is this…Dr. Hannibal Lecter?”  
“I’m sorry, but you’ve got the wrong number.”  
“Oh, well that is a shame. If it were him, well I trust he’ll being wanting to know about this…fine specimen I have here.”

A hear a muffled cursing, someone struggling in the background and it is only when I hear the voice it causes me to tighten my hand on the telephone with such force it cracks the plastic covering, slightly. It was Will’s voice and from where he was, I could tell immediately who had him.  
“My patient is not a Specimen. So, I advise you to not think that, Mr. Mason Verger.”  
“Hannibal!!? Hannibal Lecter, is that really you?!! After, all those years and you are here back in Rome.”  
“Yes. Now hand the phone to my Patient. I wish to talk to him.”  
“You wish!!? You don’t…TELL ME, WHAT TO DO, BROODMARE!!!”  
Just hearing that word again from the past “Broodmare” makes me, tense slightly and a muscle in my cheek, twitch slightly then Will, crying out makes me slam the phone down on the thing with such force it nearly breaks it.  
The fact that Will, is in Rome and in the hands of Mr. Mason Verger – along with some Hired thugs, no doubt keeping an eye on him – then heading into the guest bedroom, pick up my duffle bag and head back out as Bedelia, comes up to me placing a hand on my arm to grip it.  
“Hannibal, what if…this what he wants? To, get to you using this young man - “Your patient, Will Graham” - as bait.” She says, emphasising those words and immediately, gives choked gasp as I grab her throat with my hand.  
“Who told you? Who...told you?” I ask her, growling the words and pushing her backwards, place her body up against the glass window then tightening my grip, feeling anger rise in me with the fact she knew who “My patient” as I had called him.  
She brings her hand up, trying to pull it off and tightening more, step closer to her as I place my lips against her ear to hiss it again to her then she finally gives me, the answer.  
An answer, which makes me release her and see outside snow has started to fall on the city of Rome as she slides down to slump on the floor at my feet.

Will Graham’s P.O.V:  
I cannot move at all. My hands have been tied, behind my back by my wrists to rung on the back of the wall and a leather collar around my throat – which also has ropes tied to separate rungs either side of me on my left and right then lifting my head, glare at the person – Mr. Mason Verger – with my eyes as he silenced my mouth by placing a muzzle over it.  
The man is not paying attention to me. He is pacing back and forth, hands nervously twitching and muttering under his breath then stops in front of the blast furnace – which is open, showing a roaring furnace of flickering flames – then turns his gaze to look at me as he reaches for the brand inside the flames and pulls it out, to reveal the red-hot glowing metal.  
He comes over to me, bringing it close to my face as I flinch away from the heat of it and he smirks at this then going around me, stands behind with it in his hand holding it.  
My heart is pounding against my ribcage and the blood rushing in my ears then immediately goes to bring the brand down on my back, when suddenly a cry comes from outside the large Stable door’s and stopping him as everyone including his Hired thugs, go silent.  
They listen, hands gripping their gun’s tightly as I hear creak above my head in the eaves of the Stable Barn’s ceiling, telling me the “Predator” had finally arrived and moving slightly, indicate to Hannibal – because I could tell, he was watching me from the shadows up there – to do something about the Hired Thugs.  
A thud, comes from outside and something hits the door causing it to shake slightly then some of the Hired Thugs, open the doors slightly to reveal what looks like one of their own knocked out cold on the snowy ground and drag him inside as they immediately lift their head.  
What happens next is something I never seen Hannibal do before – because I didn’t know all of him – and now see how he kills the one’s – who he considers “Prey” for the first time. It like a choregraphed dance as everything dissolves around me to only have us in my Mind Palace.  
Will Graham’s MIND PALACE VISION SCENE:  
(Author’s Note -This is where Will visualises Hannibal killing the Hired thugs like a Dance, which he soon becomes part of. Inspired by the Dancing Scene in “Moulin Rouge” and loosely bits of “Chicago” if some people know what I’m talking about. If you don’t, I recommend having a look at them both and watching with the family for fun.)  
The large ballroom in my Mind Palace, with a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling has only one person on the dancefloor and sitting at one of the tables, watch him move to the rhythm of the Spanish Flamenco with some movements violent and others sensual as he pays close attention to the Music being played the band in the back wearing traditional Spanish Costume then other figures – male Dancers, wearing suits with skulls painted on their faces appear moving across the dancefloor.  
It soon changes, his foot slamming down on the dance floor as one man comes up, behind him as he turns his head to give them a brief glance.  
Then, back to me.  
The Music, soon changes tempo and going much more fast paced with him moving in certain ways. But, always keeping his gaze firmly fixed on me and wrenches a red handkerchief from the one of the man, making them drop to the floor with muffled thump then one of them, grabs spinning him as hands take hold his and begin to move him sensually, but violently with the movements looking like he is trying to get free from them.  
They soon turn him, facing me and he kicks one leg up in the air, hitting one of the other male dancers in the chin – who stumbles in the shadows – then moves, slowly up and down with his hands reaching up to the tie.  
He pulls hard, making a burst of red handkerchief appear and drops it to the floor, coming up to me then feel his face brush against mine as he pulled away from me by a long piece of handkerchief by the final man and pulled flush against their chest as he gasps breathlessly.  
Both begin to dance, dipping and moving in certain ways – which was only word I could think of “Erotic” - and he tries to turn in their grip, but they held him tightly from behind.  
Something makes me, move out the chair and getting up – after grabbing a champagne glass, break it in half on the table – then walking behind them, music coming to crescendo behind me, stab straight into the neck, tearing it open so wide it allows for a stream of crimson fabric to come shooting out of the gap, I’ve made with the broken half.  
It rises, like the crest of tsunami forming out at sea and immediately, comes back down to swamp over me. Covering me, so much it causes me to fall backwards in slow motion onto the dancefloor with Hannibal, catching me as the music finishes and there is silence in in the Ballroom of my Mind Palace as I’m brought harshly back to reality.  
END OF MIND PALACE VISION SCENE  
“Will!!? Will!!? Come on, that’s it…Open your eyes, Will.”  
Hannibal, saying those words to me makes me gasp shakily and shooting up – has I seemed to be laying on the floor in front of the half open Stable Barn doors - feel him take hold of me in his arms.  
I feel like I had literally just been starved of all my oxygen and looking around begin to notice the dead bodies of the Hired Thugs around me – blood staining and seeping into the hay on the Stable barn floor as also parts of their bodies, internal stuff is over the place with the intestines of one Thug hanging out of his stomach and laying in tangled, gooey heap on the floor; another guy with his neck severed so much his head immediately falls off into his lap; another one ending up with half of his body sticking out of the blast furnace and finally, Mr. Mason Verger – still alive and gibbering wreck of man, now.  
Then notice, the one I had killed behind his shoulder and see I had stabbed just like in my Mind Palace then pulling back slightly from Hannibal, see my hands are…No, I was completely covered in the blood of my first ever Murder – and the one thing it felt visceral, different and something new.  
He is watching me, flicking his eyes up and down then in realisation my rational side of me, overwhelms and takes back control as I immediately backpedal away from him trembling with the fact I had just killed a man.  
“What…have I done!!? What…have I done!!?” I begin to say, starting to panic and hitting the wall, wrap my arms around myself as I start to tremble so much that he comes over to me then tries to reach out for me with one of his hands.  
I regret what I do next.  
“DON’T TOUCH ME!!!”

Hannibal’s P.O.V:  
“DON’T TOUCH ME!!!”  
Will, shouting those words at me in the silence of the Stable Barn causes me to step backwards and away from him, after he has slapped my hand away then turning fully around face Mr. Mason Verger – who backpedals backwards trying to get away from me.  
His eyes are wide with fear and going up to him, haul him to his feet then feel a harsh stab down below, only for him to give a choked gasp as I stab my knife into him then rip upwards, allowing for a gush of blood – his internal organs as well to land at my feet – and stepping backwards, feel the knife he had been holding slip out from where he had stabbed.  
The body falls backwards, hitting the hay with a muffled thump and tilting my head backwards look up at the shadows of the eaves then a wave of dizziness threatens to overwhelm me – reminding me of the knife wound, I have sustained – and lower my head back down.  
Walking over to Will, I see how he is still trembling and his pupils expanded a certain way then I go to bend down in front of him, when suddenly I fall onto my hands and knees with my head lowered as I heave up a mouthful of blood onto the hay.  
He must have moved from his spot against the wall, because soon my cheeks are taken hold of by both his hands and he tilts my face upwards to look at him then he kisses me, breathlessly with such force, my mouth opens in a muffle gasp of shock and surprise.  
This allows him to probe my mouth with his tongue, spreading the mixture of my blood and his Victim’s blood as he moves his hands, grabbing the scarf from around my neck and ties it around my waist, covering the wound then tightens it, so much it causes me to pull away from his lips to breathe shakily.  
“Go…. You need to go. Go, now…...Hannibal. Please…. Leave me here.” He whispers, hauling me up to my feet and pushing me, away from him as this makes me look at him with shock he was choosing to let me run and stay behind himself.  
“Will…. Come with me.” I hear myself saying to him and he lifts his head to look at me then says the words, that neither of us have the answer now as we both stand there.  
“Where would I go?”

 

Those words Will had said to me in the Stable Barn, echo and re-echo in my head as I drive through the streets of Rome in a car – which had belonged the deceased Mr. Mason Verger – and turn my gaze to look at my “Lover” calmly sleeping in the passenger seat.  
I reach one hand over, squeezing one of his to reassure him, I’m here for him and always will be then sighing softly, place it back on the wheel as I keep on driving to the outskirts – where unknown to Bedelia’s knowledge and the Police Force of Rome – a safe house, which had everything that I needed to help us both.  
A Medical Room; large kitchen in the cellar - because the house had once been Wine Cellar Place – and bedroom, which overlooked a large privately-owned Lake – which I remember Javier had drowned a Victim of his in, forcing me to watch it – then come out of the memory of it.  
I do not want to remember that part of my past and keeping my eyes on the road soon come out of the City of Rome into the outskirts increasing the speed slightly as the long road is devoided of any traffic for miles upon miles.  
Trees either side of the road, blur into black stripes and lights from far distant houses became single lines appearing once in and while through the gaps of the trees then seeing a layby, hidden by large hedges in front of it turn into it.  
I stop the car, killing the engine and sitting back in the driver’s seat, place a hand on the scarf – which is soaked with my blood from the wound – then unwrapping it, groaning at how I’m having to peel it off the knife wound, due the fabric sticking to it.  
“Uhhh…...Fucking hell...” I grunt out, unbuttoning my shirt and inspecting the wound to see where I had been stabbed then a hand, touching my wound makes me turn my face to see Will, is awake and looking at me with concern.  
“Hannibal…Your…wounded. Why didn’t you tell me?!!” He asks me, opening the glove compartment and conveniently it seems some Medical Supplies have been left inside, along with some needle and thread then he forces the driver’s seat back so I lay down looking up at the ceiling of the car.  
“I thought…...it would wise not to make you panic anymore.” I answer, feeling his hands unbutton my shirt and pull it apart to inspect it then he grabs some disinfectant wipes – ripping the foil pockets, open with his teeth – then he begins to wipe the wound with them – making me hiss as the alcohol in them takes effect on it.  
He manages to clean it up, thoroughly and placing the bloodied wipes to one side then gets out the needle and thread. His hands, don’t shake as he does it and it makes me wonder had he had to do this for someone else once in his Past then he looks down at me, seeing how my chest rises and falls heavily with each laboured gasp I’m taking.  
It is the first time, I’m seeing my “Lover” in a new light and at the sametime I feel happy he is here with me, I also feel frightened of it.  
Why I’m frightened?  
Because…Will, saw me kill those Hired Thugs.  
I saw him kill one of them.  
Is he afraid of his other half…His hidden Self?  
Oh, my Sweet Stag…. don’t you see this who your meant to be.  
“Hannibal, this is going to hurt. But, I’m going to sew the wound up with this thread. Okay?” He says, bringing me out of those thoughts and that those two questions then he bends down with the needle – thread looped through it – then begins to slowly stitch the wound up, while I lay there listening quietly to my own breathing and feeling him next to me.  
My mind begins to wander, thinking about a painting I had once seen in the Rome’s National Art Museum and how it depicted a scene of two men – one being held by the other from behind with their face turned by one hand, while the other rests on their chest in sensual grip as they both stand their naked in forest of darkness with the trees curling over them like an archway or gate leading to somewhere as at their feet are if one looked closely at it – the artist had drawn thousands of white skulls of victims.  
What did mean? That I had never fully figured out yet.  
Will, brings me out of wandering, when he bends down his head and bites the thread severing it then goes to pull back, only for his lips to hover above it. He seems to be thinking about something, placing one of his hand on my hip and strokes it gently with his thumb then he gets over me on his hands and knees, managing to avoid the wound on my chest.  
He bends his head down, brushing his lips against mine and pulls back to look at me then bringing my hand up, take hold of the back of his head to push it back down to cover his lips, with mine. He trembles at it and soon covers my lips with his, making me gently flip him onto the driver’s seat on his back to get over him, the kiss becoming now more heated up as I change position each time to hear him moan breathlessly.  
This allows me to delve my mouth into his moist cavern and seeking his tongue, coax it into entwining with mine then our tongues are entwining, dancing in harmony with both of us breathing heavily through our nostrils.  
Saliva is also being exchanged inside and outside our mouths as tongues also entwine outside our mouths then pulling back from his lips to breathe, see his face is flushed – cheeks reddened so much it has spread down his neck – and pupils expanded. I can’t stop myself and bending down, again cover his lips again in a passionate kiss.  
“Hannibal…Haa…Enough…That’s enough.” He gasps out, making me pull back slightly from him and look down at him with thin strand of saliva connecting both our lips to each other’s then break the connection, allowing him to slide back into the passenger seat as I sort the driver’s seat and sit back down it as both us breathe heavily.  
“Sorry…...I…. can’t control myself. It’s…just I want…you so much, it hurts to feel it.” I gasp out, admitting it for the first time and gulping down saliva that has built up in my throat then starting the engine, reach over to squeeze his hand and he squeezes it back looking at me then leans close to me giving me a kiss on the cheek, followed by me moving my face so we can kiss, again.  
“I can’t deny…it. I can’t...deny it, anymore. I love you, Hannibal. I… love...you, so much…it also…hmm…hurts to feel it.” He gasps breathlessly in the gentle kiss and feel something wet trickle down my cheek, followed by more as we kiss more, gently this time – making it last for long as possible – then pulling back, find myself kissing him again one more time because it feels so good, so desirable between us.  
“I know, my…. Mano Meile. I... know…I love you, too.” I whisper, words which our in my own language and pulling away from him, place my hands on the steering wheel as he gets a seat blanket from the back and places it over himself as he settles down in the passengers to catch up on some sleep as I peel the car out the layby then turning my head to look at him, smile softly at him and before we head down the road reach over to stroke a strand of his curly hair from his forehead.  
Gently tucking it behind his ear and go to pull my hand back, when he grabs hold of it kissing the knuckles, gently then releases it to allow me to place it back on the steering wheel.  
I feel comforted at it and turning the car in the direction of where we had been heading then continue to drive down the empty road, while he fiddles with radio and soon finds a suitable Classical Music to relax to for the rest of our journey.


	8. Chapter 8

Will Graham’s P.O.V:  
I must have fallen asleep, because the car stopping and him, killing the engine makes me flutter my eyes open then see in front of it, illuminated by the sun rising over the mountains, a large house.   
I slowly unclip the seat belt and getting out the car at the same time he does then closing the passenger door, look around seeing mountains in the far distance; a large lake near the house - which looking closely could see had been converted from something like a Wine Making area – and some hills close by covered in vineyards.  
“Where are we?” I ask him, turning my face to look at him as he comes up to me and at first, he seems not to want to answer me then finally, does answer.  
“A safe house, Will. Somewhere we can lay low for couple of days.” He answers, starting to walk towards it and not waiting for me to catch up at all then reaching the open doorway, look back at the view one more time before I step inside.  
But, I don’t see it. All I see…. making me not wish I was seeing it at all – is the Hired Thug, who’s neck I had severed so violently – then the image dissipates like sand blowing away in the wind.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Inside the House, there is stillness and the place looks like Hannibal hasn’t been back here for a long time then closing the door, behind me and slide the bolt across. He has already gone through to the kitchen, with a plastic bag filled with…...I didn’t want to think about it…and head through myself, seeing how he has placed it down on the kitchen counter table then looks up, seeing I’m standing at the doorway of the Wine Cellar Kitchen.  
“I…want…. you to…...come here.” I say, breaking the silence around us and he comes around the kitchen counter then up to me, standing in front of me and waiting for me to do something.  
I go to bring my hand up to cup his cheek, only to fall forwards into his chest and lifting my head, look at him as he places the back of his hand against my forehead to check my temperature then sweeps my feet out from under me, making me grip his arm in my hand when he does it.  
He carries me, bridal style out of the kitchen and down a corridor to the bedroom, where inside he goes over to the bed then lays me down on it, stroking some of my hair out of my eyes.   
He pulls away from me, heading out of the bedroom to go the bathroom and like I had done for him – when he had that fever, which had hit him – then rolling to lay on my side, notice on the bedside table next to the bed a photo frame with photo of him in it.  
Though, it looks like the photo has been folded to hide the other half and because the bathroom, was located elsewhere in the house then reach for it, turning it over and slip the photo out.  
Unfolding it, I see it shows him with another person and yet the face has been ripped out – meaning it must be painful memory of someone he didn’t want to remember – then folding it, like it was, place it back in the frame.  
I place that back on the bedside table and sorting it to make look like, I hadn’t touched it then roll to lay on my back, staring up at the domed ceiling – which above it was large sitting room area and some other spare rooms, which hadn’t been furnished yet.

Hannibal’s P.O.V  
Leaving, him alone in the bedroom and heading to the bathroom, I know deep down is not a good idea then stepping inside the empty bathroom, head over to the sink and turn to face the bathroom sink mirror, above it.   
Something makes me, head back out and walking back to the bedroom then stop at the doorway, looking through the gap between the door – as I had left it half open – see he is looking at the photo from the photo frame, studying it closely.  
He unfolds it, looking at the other half and see he is looking at where the face of the person used to be then he places it back from where he got it from and sorts the photo frame to make sure, it didn’t look like it had been tampered with.   
I place a hand on the door, wondering should I go in to speak to him, about it and tell him the truth then move away, heading back down the corridor to the kitchen – where grabbing the bag, take out what I had collected from the Hired Thug’s – then place them on the chopping board, grabbing one of the curving knifes and placing it down, close by to it.  
I stand there, resting my hands on the kitchen counter and looking at the recipe holder – flick through them, stopping when I see among them hidden from plain sight is folded up note – then taking it out, delicately open it up and must place it down on the counter surface.   
It is from “Javier” and seems to be written, last night by him then begin to read it, hearing his voice echo in my head like he was here dictating it to me.  
Dear, little Silver Doe   
It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? You’re probably wondering has you read this, why I’m contacting you.  
I ‘ve seen you with him ….” Your Patient” I believe you refer the young man. He is handsome and attractive, isn’t he?  
Reminds me of that young Cello player, we met at the Concert. The one at the Opera House.  
Don’t think, I haven’t forgotten how he looked at you, afterwards.  
Does “Your Patient” know about us, hmm?  
Don’t worry, Will Graham will know soon enough and you will get your Recompense.   
From Javier De Leon   
P.S. Enjoy your stay at the Safehouse for now. 

My hands, immediately scrunch the letter into tight ball and lowering my head, begin to tremble at the fact no matter where I went – always like parasite or a disease – my dark, hidden Past would always be there around the corner to remind me of who I had been; how I became, who I am; how was never allowed to choose for myself to love, who I liked and how I had been used by “Him”.  
“What’s wrong?” Will asking me, makes me lift my head from looking at the counter and see he is standing at the doorway with nothing on – well, except for a towel wrapped around his waist – then sliding the crumpled into the pocket of my trousers, grab a tea cloth to cover the stuff on the chopping board.  
I didn’t want him panicking, right now and trying to keep myself calm, walk around the counter then head over to him, finding my eyes flicking up and down his body as I peer past the door to look at the corridor – which leads down to the bathroom and the bedroom.  
“Nothing. I just going to make us, some late Brunch. If that is okay with you or would you prefer, something else?” I ask, feeling like smacking myself for saying it and he licks his lips, slightly to wet them then flicks his gaze down to my groin area.  
“I believe…I remember you said to me, when we captured you “That any closer and I could suck your…. cock, which has been inside me” didn’t you, Hannibal?” Leaning close to whisper it in my ear and making my cheeks flush, bright crimson at the memory of it then pulls back, smirking lightly as he walks back down the corridor.  
“Will, I seem…cough...remember you also said something to me, along the lines of “You...Bastard. If my superior, weren't here...I do worse to you” didn’t you, Darling?” I whisper in his ear, after going up to him and placing my lips right up against it as I also, quickly slide a hand over the towelled covered bulge, giving it slight squeeze with my hand to make him, only slightly aroused.  
Pulling away from him, I head back to the kitchen and closing the door for some privacy, between us both then head back over to the kitchen counter, taking the tea cloth of the stuff, which I had changed to normal food – which I had placed on the chopping board – and taking hold of the chopping knife, begin to quietly prepare a late brunch.

 

After setting out two plates and cutlery on the dining room table, along with some napkins then just as I go to lower one of the forks onto the wooden surface, look up to see – a sight, which makes me drop it – onto the table. It’s the sight of seeing him in clothes – that “Javier” had placed at the back of the wardrobe for some reason, like he hadn’t wanted me to see them.  
“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He asks me, teasing me with the last bit as he walks over to the cooker, lifting the lid off the sauce to have a look at it and walking over, quickly slap his hand away as he manages to dip his finger into it then licks it to taste the sauce with his tongue.  
“I’m going to have to put childproof locks on everything, if you continue this.” I say, which makes him chuckle lightly and stepping closer to me then dances his fingertips up my chest to my lips.  
He caresses my bottom lip, seeing how it quivers under the touch and moving my hand, switch of the cooker to allow the sauce to simmer in it’s on heat then he pushes me, backwards placing me up against the curved wall near the kitchen sink and leaning up, kisses me lightly on the lips.  
I kiss him back, relishing in the feeling of doing so and keep my hands, resting on his hips to rub circles into it then pull back from them to smile softly at the one I…. “Love” …...and find myself nuzzling the side of my face against his cheek, softly.  
“If….it weren’t for the this damm injury, I would…. let you, take me from…behind on…my hands and knees or up against the wall.” I gasp softly in his ear, which makes him move his hand and gently squeeze one of my ass-cheeks, causing me to arch slightly into him.  
“How about…. on the bed, instead. Where the both us, could just get to know each other’s bodies. How we can give each-other pleasure by just touch or…. our lips.” He says, slipping away from me and going over to dining table to sit down as I collect the food, taking it over to table.  
I put it on the middle of it on a wooden board and because I bent over a certain way, feel him press into me with his hips, pushing them slightly upwards so the bulge in his trousers rubs against my behind then begins to dry-hump me, making me slap my hand onto his hip to grip it tightly.  
He is riding me, without entering me and arching my back slightly, suddenly wince at slight pain traveling from the knife injury. This makes him, pull back from me and helps me stand up straight then leads me, gently over to my seat.   
“Sorry, I’ll be more careful…next time.” He says, pulling the seat back and helping me sit down then heads back around, sitting across from me as I pull the chair closer and underneath the table, place one hand on my abdomen to reassure myself our child – even though it is just a foetus and can’t yet feel anything – is alright.   
“Just to think, I came here to allow you to be alone for some time, there and yet, you came here to Rome.” I say, placing some of the food on his plate, followed by mine and notice he seems to tense slightly at it then places his plate down, picking up the fork and begins to eat.  
“Something came up. An attack on an Air Stewardess, in an Apartment.” He says, taking a bite to eat and continues to speak to me, asking a question. “You wouldn’t have anything do to with that, would you, Hannibal?” rising his head to look at me and wonder how should I answer him as begin to eat some of the food.  
“What makes you think that?” I ask him, getting out of my chair and heading over to the kitchen sink, get myself a glass of water then head back over to the table.  
“Because of the way, she was…...murdered.” He answers, making me go up to him and placing the glass down, near my plate then sit down on the table in front of him, seeing how he sits back and places the fork down on his plate.  
“Do you want to know the truth, Will. Do…Excuse me!?” I begin to say, only for pain to shoot through my abdomen, which makes me get off the table and rush over to the kitchen sink as I grip it for support, heaving violently and causing pain to rip right through me from the knife injury.  
Sliding my hand down, I place a hand on where it radiates and looking down, see blood has seeped through the shirt from the knife injury then my legs, give out on me and I find myself falling to one side, with him managing to catch me – before I hit the kitchen floor.  
He lifts me up, cradling me bridal style and carries me to the Medical area of the house then laying me down on the Medical bed, unbuttoning the shirt to reveal the re-opened wound to him. He tenses, hands starting to shake and stares at me with such a look, I turn my face away from him to not look at him as he gets the necessary Medical supplies for it.

Will Graham’s P.O.V:  
The letter from the mysterious “Javier de Leon” feels almost like a stone weight in my pocket and looking over at the sleeping form of Hannibal, with one hand resting on his abdomen then turn my gaze to look out the large arched window, seeing the weather has changed from sunny to an intense snow blizzard.   
Was it my imagination, though…? that I was seeing a figure standing there in white snow gear and go to get out the chair, when Hannibal twitches slightly in his sleep then his hand on his abdomen slips further down to the seam of his boxers.  
His head tilts back slightly on the pillow as he lifts the seam up and slips his hand into the confines of them, bringing his legs up a little more than stills, pulling it back out again like he was afraid to do it or something. Getting out the chair, I go over to him and clambering onto the bed, myself then lay down next to his body, close to so he can tell I’m there and place a hand on his abdomen.  
Strangely it feels slightly swollen and he soon rolls onto his back, placing his hand over mine to keep it there, like he is trying to tell me something silently without saying it out loud then sliding my hand out of his hand’s grasp, slide it around his hip and to the back of the seam of his boxers.  
My hand, pulls back the seam and listening to him quietly…. wonder should I, do it?  
Should I slip my hand inside to…confirm my suspicions?  
I lean my face closer to his shoulder, inhaling deeply his natural scent mixed with medicinal stuff to help the wound heal and yet, I my hand pulls back from the seam of them, allowing it to fall back in place then slide it back around his hip to rest on his abdomen as he brings his hand back up to keep it there.   
I would not do that to him.  
It would be a violation of his privacy and be almost like a sexual assault to him. I would not…. even though, the curiosity of what he is hiding from me will naw at me, like a wild beast – a small and irritating one.  
“If you’re not asleep and can hear this. When you’re ready to tell me, about it…. I’ll be ready to reveal some of mine to you.”  
I whisper, just loud enough so he can hear, before I fall in the arms of Morpheus – who leads me to Dreams, which are yet to be explained.

Hannibal’s P.O.V:  
“If you’re not asleep and can hear this. When you’re ready to tell me, about it…. I’ll be ready to reveal some of mine to you.”  
Those words, Will, had whispered to me last night as the both us had laid on the Medical bed are now, re-echoing and echoing in my mind as I tilt my head backwards allowing for the shower water to run down my body – washing away the accumulated dirt, grime and whatever else had stuck to my body – then hear a rap on the glass, making me lower my head.  
Behind the very, steamed up glass he is standing there and switching the shower off then open the glass door – conveniently allowing for wave of hot steam to escape from it then peak around it, seeing he is holding a night kimono – one of the many gifts which “Javier” had brought with golden phoenix stitched on a black silk – over his arm.  
“Find this in…umm...the wardrobe, upstairs.” He says, causing me to tense slightly at the information he had been upstairs in those rooms and looking around them then grabbing a towel from the rack, wrap it tightly around my waist as I get small one to dry my hair.  
“Will, please…refine from wandering around upstairs. There are some things…I rather not wanting you see up there.” I say, brushing past him and heading to the bedroom use the small towel to dry my hair then stop, with my hands stopping moving it, because I can feel his gaze on me.  
He comes up to me, spinning me around so suddenly it makes me place a hand on his shoulder for support and allowing for the towel to slip off my head to hang around my neck then bends his head down to my neck to trail his lips up and down it as he pushes me backwards so we fall on top of the bed cover.  
He gets over me and keeps his hand resting on my thigh as he continues to trail his lips and down my neck then his hand, which is on my thigh, slides down to my hip and pulls the towel apart then slides downwards, causing me to arch slightly off the bed and sliding my hand downwards take hold of the back to sift it through his hair as he bobs his head up and down, between my trembling thighs.  
He causes me to writhe underneath him, with my juices – from my hidden entrance – starting to run, thickly down the inside of my thighs and he flips me so I’m over him, while he holds my hips tightly in his hands then it happens, before I can even think, my body tensing over him.  
When it finishes, I rolled back onto my back and he parts my thighs, wider apart then pushes his hips into mine, pushing himself into me making me bring my hands up above my head to grip the pillows for support.   
My whole body it seems has become oversensitive and when he begins to move holding my legs in the way he is, all I can do is unclench and clench the pillows in my hands.  
He is doing it slowly and gently, sliding It in and out of my hidden entrance – because that is where he has entered – and looking at him, see he is watching my every expression of what is happening to me.   
“You…uhhh…know. How...did you know…Ahhhh!!” I try to ask him, only to thrash my head from side to side on the large pillow as he begins to move more intensely inside my hidden wet, moist folds – each thrust, causing my juices to flow more heavily down from it onto the blanket – then for the first time, I experience the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had before with a sensation that feels like I’m floating among the stars in a distant solar system.  
Where it is only him and me, there and no-one else to disturb us.


	9. Chapter 9

Author’s Note – Warning for one Squeamish bit in this and that is the killing of a poor, innocent postman who was in the wrong place at the right time.  
Will Graham’s P.O.V:  
“Hannibal…. look at me.”  
“Haa…. Will, I…. Sorry. I want to tell you, something. I…. I’m pregnant with your child.”  
“Is that why, you left…a pregnancy testing kit at that crime scene?”  
Both of us, look at each other as we lay under the duvet cover, with the damp blanket flung onto the floor to be put in the wash later and he rolls to lay on his other side with his back to me then shifting closer to him, slip my hand around his hip to rest on his abdomen where our child was starting to grow within his hidden womb.  
“Our child, Hannibal. Our little one.” I whisper, against his shoulder and he turns his face to look over his shoulder at me then a name pops into my head, which I say to him. “Sasha Mischa Lecter. If our little one, turns out to be a little girl.”  
“Are you sure, you’re ready to….be a father to this unborn child?” He asks me, voice breaking slightly with a hidden emotion and trembles slightly, while tears fill his eyes then sits up as I wrap both arms around him to hold him from behind with my cheek resting against his shoulder blade.  
“Are you ready for this, Hannibal? If you’re afraid for the safety of our unborn child and…me. I’ll leave and go back home.” I say, asking him the question and feeling visibly tense at the words, I’ve just said to him.  
“I don’t want you to leave, Will.” He replies, taking hold of my hand and turning his body, fully to face then places it on his chest, right where his heart lays.  
I can feel it beating, against my palm and leaning closer to him, move my hand out the way to kiss his chest then move upwards to his neck, kissing it lightly to help relieve the tension he is feeling inside.  
His muscles go soft, no longer tensed up and feel him relax against me then bury his face into the crook of my neck to inhale deeply just the scent of my muskiness – which wasn’t covered by a thick layer of shampoo or aftershave or even cologne.  
No words need to be spoken now, while he allows me to pull him down to lay back down with his head resting on my chest and kissing the top of his forehead, feel him sighing softly under his breath as I pull the duvet cover up more around us to keep warm, safe and cocooned like caterpillar when it begins to turn into a butterfly or moth.  
“Go to sleep. You need it.” I say, which makes him lift his head slightly to look up at me and slides up a bit more then attentively, places his lips against mine in a gentle kiss.  
When he pulls back from my lips, he licks his bottom lip in the process to wet them and placing my hands on his shoulders, look at him into his haunting, soulful red-brick eyes then he lays back down, turning his head to lay his cheek on my chest.  
Listening to my heartbeat. His eyes soon slip close, breathing soon becoming gentle snuffling and kissing the top of his head one more time then lay my head back down on the pillow, falling calmly asleep without for the first time in my life…any Nightmares.  
It seems Hannibal, had chased them all away.

Hannibal’s P.O.V:  
The morning sun, is filtering down from the octagonal window above in the roof and onto the bed as I lay there, just basking in the warmth of it then fluttering my eyes open, lift my head slightly off the pillow to see Will is not in the bed with me.  
He is still around though, because the sound of water running tells me, he is in the bathroom having a shower to relieve his aching muscles after we made love last night so passionately it had felt wonderful, perfect and beautiful all at the same time.  
I roll to lay on my back, smiling with one resting on my abdomen, where our sweet little one is growing within my hidden womb and listen to him opening the bathroom door with his bare feet making soft pattering muffled thumps on the carpet then raising up onto my elbows look at him with his hair slicked back from the shower, white towel loosely tied around his waist and drying his hair with one of the small towels.  
I smile, softly at him and go to say something when front doorbell ringing makes us both tense at the sound. He looks at me, seeing how I’m confused at it as well and pulling the duvet cover back, slip out of bed then head over to Will, seeing he is looking at the closed doorway that leads into the kitchen, mixed with the sitting room as it rings again.  
“Does anyone, know we’re here, or that you are?” Will asks me, handing me the kimono. I slip it on while trying to think whether Bedelia had been told about this place by Javier or had someone, without my knowledge, managed to follow the stolen car.  
Tying the ribbon on the kimono tightly around my waist, and managing to calm myself down I walked to the front door. Looking through the spyhole, I could see it was a young postman impatiently waiting for a response to the doorbell. I slid the bolt back and opened the door slightly. He turns his face to look at me.  
“Oh, finally. Sorry, that was…umm…rude. A parcel for…a Mr. Will Graham.” he says, looking at the acceptance paper on the clipboard and handing it to me.  
“Wrong address. That person lives in Virginia.” I say. Suddenly he dropped the parcel and allows it to hit the ground. Blood splatters across my face with such force it causes me to fall backwards in shock. Will, who has come up behind me, catches me.  
Both of us watch as time seems to slow down and the body of the postman sways back and forth, blood flowing from a wound in his chest. Shot from behind the young man falls forward towards me, reaching up with a blood–stained hand to my cheek smearing it as they plead with me to help them.  
But, I never get the chance as another shot, rings out splattering a mound of shattered bone; blood and brain matter over the both of us as I feel Will, turn my face away by my chin to save me from the explosion of it.  
Some of it, hits my right cheek causing me to flinch at it and pressing myself closer to him, feel him cup my cheek more with his hand to calm me as my chest, rises and falls heavily under the black kimono.  
My heart is thudding against my ribcage, making me gulp down the saliva that has built up in my throat and he pulls me away from the destroyed body, over to the sofa then helps me sit down on it, grabbing some wet wipes from the coffee table. My hands are trembling, running right up through my whole body and lifting my head look up at him seeing how he is more shaken than I am at seeing someone being murdered before his eyes.  
“Don’t go out looking for them. They’ll be well gone by now.” I hear myself mutter under my breath, feeling him gently wipe the blood off my face then tilts my chin up to look at me, leaning to place his forehead against mine as he cups my cheeks.  
“I know you’re afraid. You’ve lead me into your heart, so there is no going back now. Close your eyes and wade into the quiet of the stream.” He whispers, forcing me to slip my eyes close and the sound of rushing water fills my ears as I start to wade into the stream.  
I tilt my head backwards, feeling it rise upwards to soon engulf me, allowing myself to fall backwards into the water in slow motion as hands reach out of it, catching me in their grip to pull me down into the rushing water.  
But, I know he will not let go of me.  
Will, we have become conjoined.  
Do you wonder if the both of us can survive separation?  
Only here with me, are never alone in the darkness.  
Your're with me. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note - Arggh!! Emotional angst, goes straight to the heart doesn't it. 

Hannibal: I would agree. Here, this is for you, Dear Author (Handing a mysterious envelope with golden spidery lettering on it to Author.)

Author: Oh, an invite to a formal dinner party at your house. Nice.

Hannibal: I'll get you a suit. ( Walks off, with Will's hand clasped in his)

Author: Thanks, Hannie. My nickname for him. Don't tell...umm...I said it. He'll have my spleen for Dinner or he least he said he would I though think he was joking. Okay, see you next time folks (Driving off on a Ducati motorbike, pinched from Hannibal into the sunrise)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Author’s Note:   
> Me: Not to confuse you, but to explain Dear Readers, who the man is that Gurther - the bodyguard mentioned? And some Quiz questions.
> 
> Who is Robespierre, Nigel, Kalicilius and Le Chiffre and which films are they from? Hint – there all played by Mads Mikkelsen.)

**Hannibal’s P.O.V:**

**NIGHT-MARE SCENE:**

_The fire is gently, crackling and wavering in the hearth as I lay on the fur rug, staring into its soft orange flames like a sunset with my back facing the sofa, where he sits. Javier, does not speak to me._

_Just continues to sip the fine wine of Chardonnay from my Private stash in the glass and watching me, with a blanket over me covering my naked body from his sight._

_There is tension in the air, like when an electric storm begins to form in the far distance. I wait for it to come crashing around me._

_“What are you thinking, **Little Silver Doe**. Hmm.” He says, breaking the silence, soon around us both. _

_“Nothing. I’m...not thinking about anything at all.” I say, feeling a hand touch my hip covered by the blanket, pulling it back to expose me to the warm, light of the fire then places his body, right up against mine causing me to roll on my back as I turn my face to look at him._

_The face, I see though above me is not his. It…is…Will’s face, eyes and lips as the combined faces bend down their head down, pressing the lips against mine. I turn my face away, trying to deny it what is happening feeling lips brush against my cheek. Only to feel a hand, take hold of my chin and turn it, so I look straight into the face._

_“No, no, no” I begin to say, under my breath shaking my head from side to side to deny this is happening then when I turn my gaze to look back, I’m alone looking straight up into a far distant light of very long mine shaft._

_A mine shaft, I now lay in with something lying next to me. And that is when a scream of guttural rage, anger and sadness escapes from my throat more like a wounded animal than a Human being._

**END OF NIGHT-MARE SCENE**

I shoot up, allowing for the blanket covering me to slip down onto my lap, with a labored gasp of _“Will”_ coming from my lips and laying back down on the fur rug then bring my hands up to my face, covering my eyes to block out the faint light of the fire.

My chest is rising and falling heavily, while sweat which had coated my body in thin sheen runs down my chest in small droplets like rainwater running down a window after an intense storm with my heart thudding against my ribcage.

Lowering my hands down from my face, I breathe in and out to calm my heart-rate then getting up, keeping the blanket wrapped around me to keep warm then head over to the kitchen area to get a glass of water.

Reaching for one of the glasses, I run the tap and rinse it out then hear the front door opening, making me turn my face to see Will, coming in with fresh firewood from the wood shed - trailing snow in his wake – and sliding the boots off so he doesn’t ruin the carpet then after closing the door behind him with his foot, heads over to the fireplace to place them in log basket.

I walk over to him, keeping the blanket tightly wrapped around my shoulders and watching quietly, while he places fresh logs in the fire allowing more of the light to fill the sitting room then getting up, winces suddenly placing a hand on his right shoulder.

“Will, you didn’t go out to follow… _ **Hi..**_ …them?” I say, managing to quickly say “them” instead of “Him” to cover it, seeing how he tenses slightly at the question then gives a soft sigh.

“I think you mean… _ **Javier De Leon…**_. don’t you, Hannibal?” He asks me, turning fully around to face me as he pulls out of his pocket the crumpled-up letter I had found and read, uncrumpled to show me the haunting script which had been written.

“Will…you…. Why!!? WHY DO YOU INSIST ON DIGGING UP MY PAST LIKE THIS!!?” I say, soon shouting the rest of the sentence at him, breaking the stillness of the safe-house as tears blur my vision with such force, I walk backwards to sit down on the sofa with my head in my hands.

“Because…. I want to understand why you’re so afraid of loving someone and why he harmed you.” He replies to me, stepping closer to me and bringing my hands down from my face then tilts my chin up so I stare into his gentle gaze.

“Because…. He took it away from me, last time I tried to love someone. I don’t want it to be your blood on his hands or our child’s blood.” I whisper, remembering the vivid Nightmare I had experienced of the long mine shaft and next to me, laying with the umbilical cord still attached our child lying unearthly still on the leaves which surrounded it, while a pool of blood was underneath it.

“It’s not going to happen. Don’t think that, Hannibal.” He says, sliding the large winter coat off to place over the single wooden chair near the window and sits down next to me.

His words reassure me for now, while I push him backwards so I can lay my head on his chest - listening quietly to his heartbeat – with my face staring at the warm light of the fire while bringing my hand up.

I take hold of his hand to clasp my fingers in his. He squeezes back, managing to slip his shoes off so they fall onto the floor and taking hold of me, moves us.

So were both laying on the fur rug in front of the fire then he kisses my forehead lightly with his lips. I find myself nuzzling into his chest and lifting my face see he is looking at me with a soft smile.

Some of my fringe – blond mixed with grey highlights – has fallen in front of my eyes, which he reaches up to stroke out of them and gently, tuck behind my ear so it is out of the way.

“Will…” I begin to say, making him give “hmm” in reply so continue. “… Do you feel angry with me for leaving you, behind that night?”

“No…I don’t know...It’s difficult to answer that kind of question.” He replies, starting to sift his hand through my hair.

This answer makes me pull away from him, getting up and stand in front of the fire – watching the flames dancing and flickering – then he heads back outside, telling me he needs to finish locking up the woodshed and check what else could be used for the rest of the days, we are going to be here in this safe-house.

( _ **Author’s Note: Me: This is where Javier De Leon/ Malcolm Graham after knocking Will out in the Woodshed assumes the role of his Twin Brother. This is because they are Identical Twins and the only difference between Malcolm is he wears Contact Lenses to hide his true eye Colour**_.)

What I don’t expect is him to come back so quickly from the woodshed. He comes up to me, when he comes back and sliding the blanket off then whirls me around to soon placing me up against the wall near the fireplace.

A hand grabs one of my wrists, bringing them both above my head and pinning them to the wall, followed by the blanket slipping off to fall to the floor with muffled thump then he bends his head down to my neck, starting to trail his lips up and down while I start to feel for some reason like I’m burning up inside.

“Haa……Take me…...Take me…...Will, Take me.” I gasp out, trembling against him and parting my legs wider than ever begin to moan heavily with him stepping back from me to look at me.

Yet, still holding my hands above my head – watching me, against the red wall with the golden ferns painted on it as my chest rises and falls – and seeing how wanton I’ve become then suddenly let’s go of my wrists, whirling me around to face the wall and pulling down slightly, bends me so my back is arched with spine showing.

Hands take hold of my ass-cheeks – parting them apart to reveal my leaking, throbbing hidden wet, moist sex and the other one – and before I can say anything, he suddenly bends down his head surging forwards with a tongue delving straight into my…. wet, moist petals…. with such relish, my nails scar down part of the red wallpaper leaving long raggedy grooves then I’m shooting my hand backwards to take hold of the back of his head.

He is… _**“Rimming”**_ me in such a way it causes me to moan in “Uh Uh” noises, from behind that when he slides his tongue upwards to my other entrance, I begin to rock my hips back and forth into it with my hand gripping his hair for support.

A finger at same-time he is doing it, slides into my wet, moist petals – pushing them apart – and starting to slide in and out as another soon joins followed by me tilting my head backwards only to lower it again then thrash my head side to side.

_“Haaa…. Will…. Uhhhh!!...”_

_“Does it feel good?”_

_“Lay me down…. Lay me down.”_

He pulls me from the wall, pushing me down onto the fake fur rug and pushing my top half down, keeps my lower half raised so he can continue what he is doing as I lay my head to one side with my hands fisting into the fake fur – twisting it and holding it for support – feeling my whole body becoming overwhelmed by the sensations he is giving me then a cry comes from me, followed by saliva drooling out of my mouth when it finally hits me.

He doesn’t stop though after he has done is _ **“Rimming**_ ” and instead pulls me back pushing into my wet, moistness from behind making me arch slightly with my mouth agape then keeping me on my hands and knees, starts to undulate his hips back and forth into mine from behind.

Because it is new angle, deeper penetration in the _**“Doggy”**_ position out of everything, it feels so good and enjoyable that I began to moan like a high-quality slut with him speeding up his thrusts to jolt my body back and forth as skin slapping against skin echoes in the sitting room/kitchen area then he slides one hand up, grabbing hold of the back of my head with it to wrench it backwards by my hair to bare my throat.

Never have I felt so Hot, so Dominated and so fill it makes me begin to rock my hips in time with his thrusts, because I feel….to admit even to myself….so fucking horny so he pounds me with such force I don’t care even when a scream escapes me – because I know it is one of pleasure – while his other hand grips my hip in a bruising grip – where I hope there will be bruising to remind I belong to him.

While also gasping out phrases in such slutty tone, it should shock me.

But, it doesn’t because I want…Him. I want everything of…Him.

_“I’m gonna to fuck you, so you wake up…still aching with the ghostly sensation of what I was like inside you.”_

_“Bad boy, such a…. Ahhhh!!!.... Bad boy.”_

_“Hehhh. You’re so beautiful, like this, Little Silver Doe.”_

Time stops, those words make my heart skip a beat and wrenching free from - not Will at all - suddenly cry out in anguish – something tearing inside me in the process allowing small stream of blood to trickle down the inside of my thighs – at the lightning bolt of pain going up my spine then turn my face to stare at the _**“Imposter”** _ – who soon takes off the face mask to reveal after all this time another face of person, I do not wish to see – and  _ **Javier De Leon**_ , steps towards me as I manage to get up with my legs threatening to collapse out from underneath me.

“YOU BASTARD!!! YOU…...WHAT HAVE YOU’VE DONE WITH HIM?!!”

He doesn’t answer me, just comes up to me and running towards the bedroom slam the hallway door in his face with such force I hear him give a pained, guttural cry – when it hits him – then managing to reach the bedroom, shrug some clothes on with trembling hands.

After sorting them, I grab the letter opener on the bedside table and willing my heart to calm myself so I don’t risk an early miscarriage of my baby, manage to do so then the hallway door shatters – wood going in all directions to reveal he has gotten the axe from the woodshed – and seeing no other choice as he blocked the only other route for escaping, rush upstairs just a growl comes from the hallway from him of my name.

“LITTLE SILVER DOE”

He must of gotten stronger, because just before I reach the second floor landing he lunges at me making me twist my body to immediately stab the letter opener into the side of his cheek with such force it punctures into his mouth – hitting his tongue – causing a fountain of blood to spurt onto the floor; myself and the wall as I pull it downwards to completely slice open his cheek – leaving behind a grotesque Joker’s grin of a mouth if he stitched it up and survived my attack on him – then scrambling upwards kick him hard in the jaw to send him tumbling down the stairs, hearing a sickening thud come from down below.

I get back up, running down the landing to the back door where it is immediately flung open from outside by…... _Will!!?_.... with his hair ruffled; jumper half torn and eyes fill of concern that I quickly hug him to me feeling him hug me back then composing myself slam the door shut behind with him, wrapping two old rusted chains around the doorknobs and attaching the rest to iron rung on the wall with one very large sturdy padlock.

Both of us rush down the side steps of the house, where he pulls me away from the car – which I feel glad for, when it becomes a raging fireball of burnt metal and rubber – and start to run with him up the snowy slope with him indicating to keep on going – no matter what – then he grabs hold of me, pinning me harshly to the snowy ground with such force it makes pain shoot through my injured healing side of my hip and lifting my head, watch as suddenly the whole of the safe-house explodes.

There must have been multiple explosives – because around the house in a circle, a chain reaction goes off followed the ground collapsing; then the bottom part of the house is the same and lastly not least the top half with the rooms covered in dust and holding many secrets of my _ **Past**_ – causing a shock-wave to send snow hurtling in all directions, making Will press my face down into his chest curling himself around me as I do the same.

While around us, large chunks of masonry fly past us, sailing through the air – like when a meteorite is heading towards Earth – forming impact craters with such force it buries us under mounds of snow as he holds me closer to him, keeping me protected then an eerie stillness soon fills the air around us.

I breathe shakily, panicking slightly and pushing myself out the snow mound, breathe in the fresh air mixed now with smells of burning then look over the ridge to see what had been the safe-house.

It had become a skeleton, nothing to show save for only the sofa – which is intact – in the sitting room and no sigh of _**“Javier De Leon”**_ anywhere then heave up, splattering the snowy ground with vomit of what we had eaten.

“Come on. We need to keep on moving.” Will whispers to me, helping me to my feet and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, follow him to where a large Suzuki motorbike has been parked.

A leather jacket – belonging to my _**“Predecessor”**_ \- is on the seat, which makes know I’ll have to wear it as Will hands it to me and slipping it on then zip up, trying to not think of the cologne smell on it or anything else for that matter.

It was more important to get out of here, head somewhere else where we could lay low and get money to return to Wolf Trap, Virginia if were possible.

* * *

 

**Will Graham’s P.O.V:**

Being back in the main City – Rome - is setting the nerves off in me to be on high alert in case “Javier De Leon’s” lackeys are following us and might try to attack us, due to our right now vulnerable state, while Hannibal is cruising the motorbike down the road trying to find Bedelia De Maurier’s Apartment on the street were on – which was called _**“Carmenia De Rose”**_ and named loosely after Carmen _**(a woman who history had many jilted Lovers and was killed by one)** _ – then stops in front of one of the Apartments, taking his helmet off to look up at a window as I see standing at is the said woman – who he said to me, was his _ **Therapist**_ – sipping a glass of wine.

He cuts the engine, leaning back against me and turns his face to look at me showing me, he is trying to compose himself then both of us slip off the stolen motorbike, him taking the keys to pocket in the leather coat then both of us head to the ornate door, showing it had on the wall the names of the people who lived in the Apartments.

He presses the bell for her door, waiting while I keep an eye out on the street; rooftops or any other shadows areas that look suspicious then a crackling noise comes from the answer thing.

_“Yes. Who is it?” “Miss Maurier, it’s Dr. Fell and a friend._

_Mind if I come in?”_

_“I………Sure, come on up.”_

I look at him, when I hear the words wondering why did her voice sound almost disembodied like…. she may not be alone after all…...and stepping close to him, slip my hand into the crook of his arm as both of us step into the main foyer of the Apartment complex to reveal a winding staircase with a bronze railing going up and up to a circular window then he leads me over to the stairs.

Both of us, walk up as I keep my arm in the crook of his holding it with my hand to anchor myself because I’m concerned that both of us may be walking into a trap that either Jack or even ** _“Javier De Leon”_** may have set up for us.

“Dr. Fell, your friend. She doesn’t take…you know?” I ask him, stepping behind him, when a very fat lady comes out of her Apartment – with a very overly pampered poodle on a pink lead and wearing a pink bow on its head – then quickly brushes past us, with her nose curling at the sight she is seeing.

“ _ **Faggots,**_ don’t belong here, Dr. Fell. You should know that.” She says, causing me to stiffen with hackles rising as he suddenly grips my arm so tightly I can feel his nails digging into my arm then try to wrench free, only to have him slap me across one of my cheeks hard with such force I give a soft cry at it.

“Yes, well he is a _ **“Slave”**_ of mine, Lady Melinda. He sometimes doesn’t know his place. Do you, _**Vergil?**_ ” He says to her, then asks me the question causing me to adopt a _**“Slave”**_ position – head lowered and hands at the sides, doing nothing to show he is in control of me not myself of me – as she smirks at me then heads off after calling her dog “Come on, _Wuffykins"_

After she has gone, he tilts my chin up with his hand looking at me with his maroon eyes filled with concern and getting out a handkerchief from the suit pocket wipes my split lip of the blood then sighs in a certain way, telling me he not wanted to do what he had just done to me then leads me upstairs, where we finally reach Miss Maurier’s door, which opens to reveal the woman.

She sways slightly, making me step forwards to stabilize her and helping her inside her own home, head to the sitting room where I manage to plonk her into an armchair as she slumps in it with her head lolling to one side.

On the small coffee table, I see what is the cause of her being like this and using some tissues from the tissue box pick the needles up then go to a small simple, plain kitchen to place them in the bin then turn to see Hannibal, is checking her.

He inspects medically – checking her vitals; blood pressure and heart rate; pupils as well as her breathing – then deciding I need a drink, open the fridge to see cans of _ **“Diet Cola”**_ have been left in it, so take one leaning against the counter then opening it in a certain way, so it doesn’t fizz, go to take a sip.

I stop myself though, noticing that rather cleverly someone had punctured it with small syringe to put something in it, so check the others – all the same – and going to the window, look out of the gap to see parked just across from where the stolen motorbike is there is unknown large van with a logo on it for Meat painted on its side then feel Hannibal, come up to me.

This makes me turn my face to look at him, seeing just how slightly pale, tired and emotionally drained he is then Bedelia, moaning under her breath, makes us both turn our gazes away from the window and the unknown van – which I do not want to think about now.

“She’s not okay, is she? I know an…. Addict, when I see one.” I whisper, making him head back over to her placing the back of his hand on her forehead with a sigh coming from him then he brings a shaking hand to his mouth.

Only to frown and leans down to look at her, eye level.

“Was this intention, Bedelia. To see me broken like when a puppet has its strings cut by scissor. I should kill you right now, but then you haven’t threatened that safety of the child growing within my hidden womb. Which he told you about, didn’t he? You damm…Bitch.” He hisses at her, making her immediately come out of the what is a _**“Fake stupor”** _ and before, I can go up it happens.

She slaps him across the face, splitting his bottom lip in the process – drawing blood, which lightly trickles down the side of it with his fringe falling in front of his face, while he keeps it to one side. I don’t know it happens, but I had been at the window and now, I am pressing my knee into her gut with such force as I lean over her with a curtain cord around her throat. I hold it with both hands.

Both hands, which pull it taught enough, causing her to give out labored, choked gasps and continue to pull the rope tighter around the thin, tall neck with the necklace shining in the lamplight on it as Hannibal, watches me with fascination; curiosity and not stopping me at all.

She somehow manages to grab a letter opener, slashing upwards over my left eye – causing me to cry out in shock and pain – allowing for the curtain cord to loosen around her neck, stumbling backwards as blood plips onto the carpet followed by me bringing one hand up to the cut she has given me.

Hannibal, comes up to me and takes hold of me pulling my hand down so he can inspect the cut then looks over to Bedelia, who holds the slightly bloodied letter opener in her delicate fine hand with the golden ring on her ring finger – glinting in the streetlight, flooding in through a gap in the large curtains – then leads me into the kitchen, making me sit down on a stool as he opens a _**“First Aid Kit”**_ and gets out one of the alcohol wipes.

It stings like hell, making me grit my teeth at the pain of the alcohol wipe taking affect with hiss of irritation coming from me and flick my eyes to him, seeing how a bruise has formed where she slapped him so reach up to touch it gently with fingertips – seeing him wince slightly, but quickly compose himself as he finishes checking my cut – then lowering my hand to my leg, rest it there.

Bedelia, is watching us both – especially the way, I allow Hannibal to do his job and how he is relaxed around me – and goes to say something to the both of us, when her Apartment doorbell ringing interrupts.

Breaking the silence around us, that all three of us tense at it – like when Deer have sensed they are being watched and lift their heads to see what it is that has disturbed them – and gracefully, smoothing down her dress she gets out the armchair.

She says nothing, just heads over to the answer machine for her Apartment and presses the button then speaks in fluent Italian to the person or persons on the other side.

Feeling edgy, I slip off the stool quietly and head over to the window looking down at the street below through the gap in the curtain seeing a small group of thugs standing half hidden in the shadows of the ornate doorway of the Apartment complex then a hand squeezes my shoulder, followed by warm lips against my ear.

_“Time to go, Will. We’ve overstayed our welcome here.”_

_“Hannibal, is there a Fire Exit?”_

_“Yes, just across from her door. If we go now, we’ll reach it and the alleyway behind the Apartment complex.”_

_“Alright.”_

Both of us head to the main door, only for me to quickly pull him out the way flattening him against the wall as a barrage of gunfire erupts behind the door – causing bullets to shoot through the oak with such force, there is now mistaking that these were _no ordinary Thugs like the one’s I had scrapped with in Brooklyn, New York when I had just been a_ **_“Rookie Cop”_** _of the Police Force_ , there – then the door is kicked open so forcefully it hits my back with such, I must bite my bottom lip to silence the pain cry that wants to escape as it hits the place on my shoulder – _where years ago, I had got stabbed by a crazy wannabe of upstart, who wanted to take over a Drug turf belonging to very high ranking Drug Baron_ – and feel Hannibal, slip something sharp into my hand.

Looking down, I see it is a curved knife – simple, yet effective for slicing an eye; cheek or anything else for that matter – and gripping it tightly, slash out at the first guy who turns to look behind the door – seeing us both there – with such force it causes him to fall backwards, pressing the trigger of his gun in the process as blood spurts upwards into the air from his severed eyeball.

I dodge the next guy, hitting him with large antique vase – which no doubt had cost Bedelia De Maurier a lot of money as she gives me a glare of annoyance that I had just destroyed a favorite vase of her’s – and grabbing Hannibal’s hand with my own, run out the Apartment to the FIRE EXIT opening it straight away then begin to run down the long winding stairs to the bottom hearing when we reach the third-floor shouting coming from above making me quickly look up to see the Leader glaring at us both.

Bullets ping of the metal railing, beside us and force me out of the haze I’m in then keep on running with Hannibal, beside me still clasping my hand to reassure him I’m here with him as we finally make only to hear running footsteps coming from a long hallway on the second floor.

I whirl around, placing both hands on his chest and with a firm shove pushing him away from me, soon feel the large giant of Thug slam into my side – _like when a Bull rushes at El Matador with the intention to kill_ – then I’m slammed up against the rubbish chute door, with the side of my head hitting it so hard blinding pain flares through me.

I go blind - all external noise disappearing around me followed by a sensation of falling as my heart thuds against my ribcage feeling myself distantly slide down the wall to collapse to one side then the sound all comes rushing back with someone screaming in panic; anguish and grief all rolled into one purifying scream.

I cannot move, my head hurts with blood pooling underneath it then my face is turned by my chin, so I finally see…. **_a Stranger,_** I don’t recognise and another one – _**with blonde silvery hair** _ \- being held by large Giant of man, crying out something to me.

_Where…. I’m I?_

_Why does my…head hurt so much?_

_I…can’t keep my eyes open?_

_Who is…Will? Who……is…...Will?_

* * *

 

**Hannibal’s P.O.V:**

_“WILL!!?...LET ME GO!!!.... WILLL!!!?”_

_“Easy, don’t harm yourself. Hmmm, look at that…tears in your eyes already because of what just transpired. Master Verger will be glad to see those.”_

“You…Bastard…. YOU GODDA……You…” I can’t continue, feeling my voice break in the process with such emotion for the fact Will, now lays on the floor with serious head injury – after being slammed into the rubbish chute door by the large Brute, who holds my arms pinned behind my back – and try to get free from, managing to get one arm free then I’m let go off, causing me to stumble forwards trying to keep my emotions at bay.

Not show weakness of any kind to these Hired Thugs, yet the tears in my eyes at seeing this sight of _**“my Lover”**_ laying there makes me start to give hitched sobs, allowing for the tears to run down my cheeks in thick rivulets so much I collapse on my knees in front of him.

Pulling him into my chest, I cradle him holding the back of his head and burying my nose into his hair to try to calm myself then I’m roughly hauled up to my feet and away from the brief, intimate embrace by new hands to be pulled flush against their chest.

I try to get free, struggling against them, only to feel something sharp press – just enough to warn me, they would do it if I don’t cooperate with them – into my abdomen – where the child is growing within my hidden womb – and fearing for the safety of it, go still with them giving a satisfied behind me then a leather clad hand comes up, holding a small tissue patch which they bring to one of my tears – that is starting to run down my cheek – allowing it to be absorb by it.

“Shh. Hush, Hannibal Lecter. Hush.” A sickly voice whispers, against my ear as I shudder at the feel of their hot breath against neck which is soon followed by a soft kiss and a lick of their tongue going upwards – like the person is tasting my own sweat in their sick, perverted way.

“Don’t touch me!!!!? Haaa…...Uhhhh!” I begin to growl out, only to gasp shakily – not meaning to, because I don’t want to give them satisfaction in seeing me lose control to them – when they start to trail their sickly, almost cold lips up and down my neck.

Their tongue licks up and down to cover it again in their saliva, while their other hand – which has managed to slip into the loose-fitting jeans, cups me from behind through the boxers – then they press two fingers inwards, causing me to suddenly arch my back with a small cry escaping me before I can stop myself.

_“Hmm, there it is. Your little…. secret, you hide from the world. Oh, what this…your already so wet are you?”_

They pull their fingers back out of the jeans, bringing their hand up to grip my chin forcing me to watch as the large Brute, picks Will’s unconscious body up and because of the knife against my abdomen, I can do nothing but watch – because if I tried anything I would risk the unborn child’s safety – as the rubbish chute door is opened with his body soon pushed down it.

I manage to wriggle free from the sick, pervert – _**“Master Verger”**_ – and lunge at the large Brute, only before I can even reach their face they grab hold of both my wrists to soon hold my arms out wide with such force it brings me close to them as I glare at them with my eyes looking straight into theirs.

“Gurther, that is enough. Bring him to the van.” I hear them say to the large Brute, who grunts in reply to them.

My wrists are let go off by _**“Gurther”**_ – as the large Brute was called – and they turn me around, forcing me to walk down the stairs to the first floor – where the back-entrance door has been opened – then outside into the darkened alleyway.

A black limousine has been parked in it with a door already open – waiting for me to enter into its dark interior – and I’m pushed inside by Gurther with such force I fall over the lap of _**“Master Verger”**_ then the passenger door, slams shut behind me.

I scramble off and onto the other seat with the man – glasses glinting in the faint light of the lamps in the roof of the limousine, while he smirks at me – turning my face away to hide it from them.

“Don’t worry, I assure you, Dr. Hannibal Lecter no harm will come to your unborn child.” He says, picking up a glass of champagne to sip as I scoff at the words, which makes him raise an eyebrow at me. “Oh, don’t believe me, do you?”

I don’t answer at all, just listen to the limousine now driving through the streets of Rome to unknown place and hope deep down that someone would find Will in time to save his life then stiffen when I feel hot breath on my cheek, making me flinch back because he is really close to me.

He had moved so silently, seeing an opportunity when I had lost myself in the haze of worry for Will and is sitting next to me, flicking his eyes up and down my body then he places his empty glass down in a small drink holder.

“Hmm, your tense, sweetheart. Let’s help you relax.” Master Verger, whispers in husky lustful voice soon leaning close to my neck and placing a hand on my chest pushes me down so I lay on the leather seat then surges forward, biting into my neck that I shudder with my hand going to grip the back of his head to try to pull him off.

It hurts, making me grit my teeth at him giving me the opposite of a _ **“Love-bite”**_ instead it was more of a _ **“Lust-bite”** _ and he continues to bite more deeply drawing blood – that soon trickles down the side of my neck into the hollow of my throat then his hand is slipping underneath the grey jumper, touching my bare skin of my chest as this causes me to arch slightly at the sickly touch and upwards to one of my nipples.

It takes hold of it, twisting it to elicit a response in me as between my thighs to my shame and horror I feel myself responding with both entrances starting to throb slightly and letting go of my neck, lapping the blood up with his tongue quiver at the touch of it then he pulls back, pushing the jumper up so it becomes bunched up enough to reveal my nipples to his gaze.

He soon bends down to my chest, taking one in his mouth and begins to suckle on it with such force it sends tingles running through me to my groin then bites down on it, making me raise up slightly to try to dislodge him only to fall back down because of him swirling his tongue around it so it rises and peaks.

His other hand, rubs my other nipple between two fingers – feeling the tip of it – and drawing from me soft whimpers and moans then he finally let’s go it, only to pull me up so he can flick his tongue over my other nipple with me feeling strange suddenly.

Like I’m burning up inside. Like, he is using some kind…of _ **Drug.**_

I breathe shakily, realizing what it is he is using…... **_“Date-Rape Drug”_ ** …...and manage to wriggle free from him then collapse onto the floor of the limousine, with concern for the child rising inside me and anger it had been his intention.

I grab the champagne glass, shattering it and lunging at him pin him to the one-way glass – where on the other side the driver is – than bringing the broken shard of the champagne flute, I hold up to the light so he can see what it is.

And soon stab into every part of his face again and again with the intention that he will survive – he will be permanently disfigured for trying do something to me – as blood speckles my cheeks with tiny crimson roses, followed by him trying in vain to call out for help and never has such anger risen into me before, while I also reach into his mouth with one hand then grabbing his sickly, perverse tongue pull hard to rip it out of his mouth with such force it causes an anguish of anger; pain and agony to come from him.

I step backwards, hearing the passenger door opening and dive out of it before _**Gurther**_ – come to see what has happened to his Master – can stop me then slash at another Thug, severing his throat immediately with the makeshift weapon it allows for an arc of blood to go upwards into the air, followed by them giving a choking gasp with hands fumbling weakly to it as they fall face forwards in front of me; the next one gets stabbed in the neck with the champagne flute, while I take from their belt a large knife and a gun – loaded thankfully with enough bullets – sweeping the feet out from underneath the another one who appears as I embed the knife into the inside of their left thigh, ripping it downwards to allow for a gush of blood to bleed out of major arteries in it then covered in the Thug’s blood.

I bring the gun up cocking the trigger as _**Gurther**_ does the same with his large gun.

“Going kill me, Gurther? Go on, pull the trigger. Show me how tough, you are.” I say, watching as his finger slides over the trigger – itching to fire a bullet in my face – and he lowers it down, giving me, a glare then steps closer to me pressing the muzzle against my forehead.

“I should kill you. But, I’m not under Mister Mason Verger’s orders. I’m under another person’s Orders and you may know them….. _ **.Mr. Robespierre Lecter.”** _ He says, causing me to step back with heart skipping a beat at the name….at a name, I had not expected to hear for a long time.

He lowers the gun, placing it back it back in his gun holster and takes hold of me, pressing something into the side of my hip as I bring my hand up to grip his muscular arm with wide eyes at the fact he is drugging me with a sedative to knock me out.

“What are going to do, now to me? _”_ I manage to ask, hearing him whisper words in reply

_“I’m taking you and Will Graham, back to Virginia under his Orders”_

Before blackness succumbs my vision with my hand letting loosely go of the large knife as I sink into an unconscious state with no memory of what happens next.


	11. Chapter 11

**Will Graham’s P.O.V:**

**FLASHBACK:**

**Location: Virginia State Hospital – 7:12am**

_“I’m sorry to say this, Mr Graham. But, what you have is a certain form of Amnesia – where fragments will come and go of what happened when you ascertained this injury – and there is also the risk of what you been also diagnosed with…. Encephalitis.”_

_“Is there a cure for it?”_

_“Yes, but it means intensive time staying at the Hospital.” “I understand. Will the memories I’ve lost come back?” “Over time, yes. It will be difficult….as they may affect your health and well-being depending on the frequency of them.” “I’ll keep notes than on when they happen to me.”_

**END OF FLASHBACK**

 

“So, how are you feeling?” Alana asks me, while I sit in the rocking chair on the porch of my house with a wool blanket wrapped around my body.

“Slightly better. The treatment from the Hospital has helped and regular visits…from…... Dr. Hannibal Lecter to check my progress if also helping as well.” I reply, remembering the time when I had been in the Hospital room, recovering – that the man had always come in with Dr. Sutcliffe and being kind, had given me better food than the Hospital food I had been getting.

_But, why?_

_Why is the man doing all these things?_

_We hardly…know each other and yet, there is something about the way he acts around me…like it is somehow familiar._

_And, what about…. the little one that has appeared in his life…. Little Sasha M. Lecter? Where did she come from?_

_Why does…my chest start to hurt, everytime she holds out her little hands to me and calls me…... **“Papa”** and also why did he allow her to call me it?_

I come out of those internal questions, when I hear a car pulling up to the house and turn my face to see it is the said man that I’ve been thinking about as he brings his car up alongside Alana’s then kills the engine, stepping out of it gracefully.

He goes around to the passenger side, opening the door to pick up the little baby girl in the baby seat and cradles her close to his chest, while she nuzzles affectionally against into it then closing the passenger door, walks up to us.

I get out of the porch chair, allowing it to rock slightly back and forth and go up them both as the little one turns her face to look at me, while…I make my decision…taking her out of his arms to allow her to snuggle into my chest with a light snuffling noise.

“Hey, **_Little Fawn_**.” I say, the nickname – I have just thought for her – and she coos softly in reply, making me bend down to nuzzle my nose against her’s with gentle smile on my face as she tries to pinch my nose.

“Well, I see you sometime, Will.” Alana says, making me lift my head to nod in reply, seeing she is acting like _“Two’s a company, three’s a crowd”_ with a look then she gives a hitched gasp.

“Hmm, is something wrong, Alana?” I ask her, seeing she is shaking her head slightly to side to side like she is trying to deny what she is thinking in her head.

“Hannibal, why does she look like Will, so much?” She asks, just as I hand the little one back to him and that is when time stands still –as I freeze in place, the golden pendulum swinging back and forth in my mind.

Transporting me to another place, another time with the words she just said echoing and re-echoing in my head again and again like a mantra.

**_“Hannibal, why does she look like Will, so much.”_ **

**_“Why does she look like Will, so much?”_ **

* * *

 

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

** Location: Robespierre Lecter’s Safe House – Early Dawn **

Sunlight filtering through a gap in a curtain, makes me weakly flutter my eyes open to see sitting in an armchair near the bed is blurry shape and another one near the window then my vision clears to reveal it is my Father – Robespierre Lecter, brown hair tied back with black ribbon and the eyepatch covering his scarred eye and one of my Brother’s – Le Chiffre, standing near the large window with his arms folded over his chest.

“What were you thinking, Brother? You nearly risked the life of the child growing within you.” Le Chiffre asks me, making my Father glare at him in a certain way – that he is speaking out of tone – and sliding off the bed, head into the bathroom where I manage to reach the sink in time running the tap to fill it.

I cup the water in my hands, splashing the water in my face with my Father, coming into the bathroom turning my face by my chin then looks at me with concern, seeing how emotionally drained I am – shadows under my eyes; bruises covering certain parts of me; along with the bite with my neck and the fact, I was evidently by the way I kept-ed my hand resting on my abdomen I was pregnant.

“Hmm, you need some rest. First, get those clothes off and have a shower to relax yourself, Hannibal.” Father says, making me nod in reply as I start to peel off the sweat-soaked clothes and drop them to the tiled floor.

I wait until they have all left the bedchamber so I can fully look at myself in the mirror, soon allowing myself to comprehend deep down I’m afraid…because Will….is…I don’t want to even think about right now.

* * *

 

Afterwards, with a towel wrapped around my waist I come out of the bathroom drying my hair with one of the other towels and go over to the large window, pulling the curtain back with one hand to look at the large Japanese garden – which was like mine in Virginia – then see a reflection in the window, making me turn to see…...No, it couldn’t be.

I turn my face to look at the open doorway, seeing nobody there and yet, I swear…I had just seen standing there only for a brief while…. Will, with a certain look on his face and a bandage wrapped around his headwound.

_Did I hallucinate it?_

_Did I imagine…because I miss him so much?_

_Oh, Will…. If only I could turn back the clock to when both of us were still safe and you could hold me in your arms._

 

* * *

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:   
> Me: There going to murder me for this.
> 
> Hannibal: I highly doubt it.
> 
> Will: We shall all see
> 
> Me: I’m emotional little shit, aren’t I?
> 
> Hannibal and Will: Maybe.
> 
> Me: Ummm...Will talk later.

** 7 MONTHS LATER **

**Hannibal’s P.O.V:**

**_“Hannibal, why does she look like Will, so much?”_ **

As soon as Alana asks me those words to me, I stiffen with Little Sasha in my arms giving a slight squeal at me because I’m gripping her too tightly and releasing her slightly, kiss the top of head to apologize to her as I notice Will has gone inside the house.

“Sorry, wee one. I didn’t mean to that.” I whisper, making her lift her face from my chest to look at me and nudges me indicating she wants to go to see if **_“Papa”_ ** is alright so head inside.

Not answering her question at all, seeing Will is sitting in one of the armchairs and looking he had just experienced an intense flashback then sensing me, he turns his face giving us both a weak smile then allows me to place her into his arms.

Bending down slightly to do so, while our child decides to say two words making me stiffen with my throat tightening in the process seeing how Will looks at me…at the words.

**_“Mama, Papa”_ **

I try to speak to shush her, only to step away heading into the bathroom as he still holds her against his chest and gripping the sink for support quickly fill it with water to splash my face then turning my face, when I raise it see he has gotten out of the chair.

“Hannibal, I’m going to ask Alana to leave. She’s…. making me feel edgy and I feel calmer when you and the little one is here.” He says, coming up to me to hand her back to me, while she whimpers gripping with one little hand my shirt and his one tightly with her little hands.

She wants us to be together, making us both look down at her as he steps closer to me, allowing me to wrap my arms around him loosely in hug as he rests his forehead against mine. I breathe softly in in and out, flicking my eyes upwards to consider his blue eyes – the sametime he does – and over her head, kiss him lightly on the lips.

He does not stiffen, just kisses me back softly and pulls back to smile down at Little Sasha – our ** _“Little Fawn”_** as she was now nicknamed – then leads me out of the bathroom, over to one of the sofa, sitting down with me as he strokes her cheek lightly with the back of his hand to make her coo gently at him.

Alana, who is still standing outside on the porch is looking at us both through the window, noticing how Will is more comfortable around me then Sasha, gives a small yawn turning to nuzzle into my chest with gentle snuffling’s soon coming from her as she falls asleep.

“Hmm, Stay with me tonight. The both of you.” Will says, making me turn my face to look at him and go to answer him, when Alana chooses the wrong moment to come in with such force it wakes Sasha, from her sleep.

She looks around, clambering up to my shoulder with her eyes wide in terror at the unknown sound starting to nudge into my neck as I whisper soothing words in my Native language to calm her – feeling her wee body is trembling against mine.

“Alana, what…is wrong with you? There was now need to slam the door open...like that.” Will says, when suddenly she grabs hold of me by the lapels of my coat and hauls me off the sofa, causing Little Sasha to fall from my shoulder with a little cry coming from her.

 

I manage to wrench free from Alana’s grip, reaching for my child and catching her as manage to turn to land on the floor with a muffled thump, while holding my trembling little one close to my chest. I manage to sit up, sifting my hand through her hair with me continuing to whisper soothing words in my Native tongue to her and see Will, is looking at Alana Bloom, with such a furious look it causes her face to lose all colour.

“Get out, Alana. Get out of my house, now. Just, get out and don’t even bother coming back here, again.” I hear Will saying, with such a tone it makes my heart speed up that it does force her to leave.

Will, helps me up hugging us both close and stroking a hand down my back – that is hurting slightly, but not that much – and looks down at our little one, who is still trembling slightly with tears forming in her eyes then he does something unexpected, he begins to sing softly.

It is in French Creole. I never known he knew it and could sing it as I listen to him.

She turns her gaze to him, nuzzling into his chest and he kisses the top of his forehead – humming the words, now – as sirens suddenly break the sweet silence, making us both frown at each other.

Had Alana called the police for some reason?

I turn my gaze, only for everything to fast-forward as Jack Crawford – with certain look on his face – pulls me away from my child and Will, leading me outside to force me onto my knees on the snow as I’m made to put my hands on the back of my head clasped. Every inch of my pockets is checked, stopping when they find something which makes me frown as well and soon Jack, pulls it out to reveal……...a severed finger of a female with a wedding ring on it!!!.... then he must have recognized it, because suddenly he grabs my both my hands forcing them straight into handcuffs as my top of my body is slammed down with my face lying to one side.

The snow is cold, numbing my cheeks followed by him roughly hauling me up in a certain way it causes me to open my mouth in pained gasp – when the metal of the handcuffs digs into my wrists – and he walks me over to his car, while the S.W.A.T team keep their guns trained on me.

I twist in his grip, when Sasha wails for me making me look back to see she is trying to reach out for me and manage to wrench free from him rush over to her tripping on the steps in the process because of emotions of Motherly instinct causing pain to shoot through my ankle then laying there crumpled on the wooden steps of Will’s porch, I only manage before they pull me away, to nuzzle her nose.

Inhaling deeply her scent to memorize it for **_My Mind Palace……._** in a room, where when I open the door it leads straight to Will’s house, the wide expanse of forest and his dogs waiting for me to come back to them.

* * *

 

** 12 DAYS LATER **

** LOCATION – Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane – 6:23pm **

I’m sketching quietly, a drawing of something while the fireplace in my office – _in_ **Mind Palace,** _as it was where I was right now to get away from the endless, tiring orderlies_ – gently crackles and wavers, while next to me in a tiny cot is nothing – just a remainder of my child, who I had given birth to and now I had no clue to her whereabouts or for that matter even Will – then a voice shatters the whole area like a glass mirror, allowing it to tinkle to the floor around me as the glass cell comes back in stark reality.

I lift my head, seeing the familiar irradiating face of Dr. Frederick Chilton – now popular for his book **_“Blood, Chocolate and Kisses of Forbidden Fruit”_** a story about me and Will, falling slowly for each other and then my betrayal to my **_“Lover”_** in the form of the large Murder spree, which had happened in my own Lecter Estate, here in Baltimore - and lowering the pencil on the paper, breathe heavily in and out to calm my breathing.

“Chilton, what a pleasant surprise. What do I owe the pleasure of your company? Come to make the Sequel for your book.” I say in a mocking tone, which he shakes his head to and indicates for me to come over to the letterbox at the side of the wall below the little **_“Mutt”_** – as I called his camera – then slipping off the stool, go around the large kitchen table heading over with my footsteps echoing the polished floor.

He opens the box, slipping an envelope inside and lifting my side of the letterbox see it is package, which I place on top of the lid then begin to unwrap seeing it has been tied with string to reveal…. a very Human heart, with a card on it folded in half with the name on it in fancy script.

 ** _His_** script.

**_Little Silver Doe_ **

I pick up the card, flicking it open to read as Chilton, watches to see the range of emotions and placing it down flick my eyes up to him as he flinches at the gaze then taking the heart in both hands, bring it up to my mouth. His eyes widen in horror, only to notice what the note says and he tries to call for backup then stops when he sees tears are forming in my eyes, threatening to spill.

He allows for his hand to fall limply to his side, while watching as I bite straight into the one I hold starting to eat it with the tears running down my cheeks in thick rivulets because this was a threat from **_Javier De Leon_** and it had worked on me.

_This is what I will do, when the time comes for your **Recompense.**_

_He will force you to eat his._

_This is the **Price** for your **Betrayal** of him._

_From, **The Great Red Dragon** (Servant of **The Lupin of Florence – Javier De Leon)**_

When I finish it, swallowing it down with my Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, I step backwards away from the glass with bloodied mouth to soon violently heave it back up again onto the polished floor as I also place a hand to my abdomen to comfort an ache within my hidden womb.

“That was sent this morning to Jack Crawford’s office, Hannibal. He wants you to help make sense of it. You’ll will be interviewed by him, tomorrow along with…. ODERLIES!?” He begins to say, only to shout for his men when I fall to one side with muffled thump, breathing laboured while my eyes slip close as darkness succumbs my vision.

I remember nothing from thereafter.

* * *

 

** Will Graham’s P.O.V: **

My phone ringing, disturbs both mine and little Sasha napping as she lays curled up my chest in her fake fur Wolf onesie – made by her Godparents Abel Gideon and Margo Verger nee Gideon – then grumbling at whoever has disturbed my sleep, pick it up to see Jack Crawford’s name flashing on the screen.

I press answer, bringing it to my ear.

_“Jack, why are you calling?”_

_“You need to get down to BSCI at once. Hannibal, collapsed after he was sent that package from **Javier De Leon’s New Pet – The Great Red Dragon –** and…Hang on…...Yes. Wait.  What!!!?”_

He cuts off so suddenly, leaving me laying there with the little one now wide awake and taking hold of her, get off the bed of the large Cabin – after being forced to move here by Jack, to protect us from the wrath of **_Javier De_** **_Leon_** – then grabbing my coat, scarf and car keys head downstairs to the front door.

She grips me, tightly when a shadow looms over us and looking up…feel my heart skip a beat.

Because in front of me, with his maroon eyes sparkling with delight and happiness is…...Hannibal Lecter, in a prison suit and holding in his arms two little wriggling bundles!!!?

“Hello, Will. Can I come in?” He asks, looking inside the large cabin and pulling him in shut the door, slide the bolt across then turn the key in the lock.

I lead him, carrying our little boy’s over to the large bed and push him down to lay on the large fur cover – with black and white wolf laying curled up together then place between us our three children, seeing how little Sasha nuzzles against them as they curl up against her – Big Sister to them, protecting her Little Brother’s – then they fall asleep, while I reach a hand up to tuck a strand of Hannibal’s hair from his forehead gently behind his ear.

I kiss him lightly, making him sigh shakily softly in the kiss and pull back to his eyes are wet with tears then rests his forehead against mine, falling soon asleep himself. I follow soon afterwards.

* * *

 

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

Will, comes into the kitchen yawning with his mouth open as Abel Gideon, Margo and Jack Crawford, smile softly at seeing his mussed-up hair while the little one’s – Sasha, Aldris and Julian –  are squealing with joy at seeing their Father – my soon to be Husband, when we finally do get married – then he comes over, kissing me lightly on the cheek.

“Tonight.” He whispers in my ear, causing a delightful shiver to run down my spine at the words and pool deeply into my hidden womb, which aches in answer to it and heads over to our little bundles of joy.

_How long has it been?_

_I been….in love with you, ever since we laid together and now, I’m here with you, Will._

_I’ve bore our Daughter, while in Rome and I killed someone to protect her._

_I’ve showed you my Heart, gave you my Soul and….my Love for you._

_I don’t want to lose you._

I place the wooden spoon, I’m stirring the pasta sauce with down on the kitchen counter, bringing my hand up to wipe a tear away only to cover my mouth with it as I give shuddering sigh that alerts them all to me and moving away from the stove, head out the kitchen, upstairs to the bedroom with the large bed Will and I shared.

I go to shut the door behind me, when he slips in and closes it for me then takes hold of me peeling my clothes off with gentle care then pushes me backwards to lay me down on the bed with my legs hanging over the edge of the bed.

He gets out from his jeans a condom packet, after sliding off his own clothes and lifting my hips up a bit guides the tip of his…cock…to my wet, moist hidden entrance then pushes inside with me wrapping myself around him hunching slightly into his chest – after he has slipped the protection on.

He lays me back down again, starting to slowly and gently undulate his hips back and forth rocking into me that I bring my hands up one to hold the back of his head – sifting through his hair – and the other his waist, while feeling his “ ** _Love”_** wash over me like waves softly lapping on the sand of a forbidden shore.

Both of us, are laying on that sand with waves washing over us to peel and take away the scars of our Past, while I feel…like I’m being reborn.

My Soul being healed by someone, who I know will always be there for me.

Holding me close, tightly wrapped around me as rose petals of the finest white blossom around us, pushing their way through the sand to bloom around us as I suddenly arch my back with a breathless gasp, followed by the sensation of floating as my eyes flutter close.

His ** _Love_** it seems is the most powerful emotion I’m feeling as I allow myself to succumb to it.

* * *

 

 

 

“ _We should really stop, Will.”_

_“Don’t talk, Hannibal…just don’t talk.”_

His lips are warm, breathing hot air on my chest while his tongue dances with mine outside both our mouths as he keeps his hand resting on my abdomen caressing it lightly and thinking about, I take hold of his hand to clasp my fingers in his. I stroke his ring finger, causing a shudder to run through his body as he gets the message from me with breathless whisper from him that makes my heartrate speed up with happiness.

_“Yes, I’ll marry you, Hannibal”_

He pulls back soon to look at me, smiling softly at me with such a look it makes me take hold of him to fully hug him to me as both of us kiss again with such sweetness that it makes my heart ache.

_“Till I found you, I was alone in the Darkness of my **Past** and everything else until you showed me your sweet, undying **Love** for me. Will, I love you and always will until were both grey haired.”_

_“Hannibal!!!?”_

_“Hmm, what my **Ravenstag,** was it something I said?”_

* * *

 

** EPILOGUE: **

** AFTER CERTAIN EVENTS THAT HAVE HAPPENED **

** Francis Dolerhyde’s P.O.V: **

Standing in front of the Hospital window, I bring a hand up to my neck where the scar rests and look at the one across my abdomen – a curved Joker grin, reminding me of the one Heath Ledger had acted as in the film Batman: The Dark Knight – touching it with attentiveness because of knowing who gave me it.

Hannibal had given it to me _–  to make Jack Crawford believe I had come to kill them and get rid of them so I could become **“The Great Red Dragon”**_ – and the one below from Will Graham – _just like his scar, that he had been given by Hannibal when the man had felt betrayed by him when he nearly been killed by Mathew Brown, another **Pet of Javier De Leon** _ – then sliding the faded grey tanktop down to cover it, I pull the black woolly jumper down.

Turning away from the mirror, I head over to the writing desk to tidy up written notes; sorting a black bounded journal with clasp of Chinese dragon it with a small ruby for its eye; the samurai sword letter opener, which been sent to me by unknown admirer as the Orderlies said then carry them over to a suitcase, packing them inside fresh clothes from my Apartment that I had been allowed to keep.

I busy doing packing, so don’t hear the Hospital room door opening, behind me and it only when they stop behind me that I sense their presence making me stand up straight then turn fully around to have a look at the person.

“You!!? You’re supposed to be dead.”

“And why my dear **_Le Petite Red Dragon_** do you think that, hmmm?” **_Javier De Leon_** says, smirking with a predatory grin – showing his teeth – and I know now, that he been planning this along.

The **_Servant_** had become the Prey of the **_Lupin of Florence._**

It’s Master, who kepted the chains wrapped around its body and never ever let it go of them.

* * *

 

 

**TO BE CONTINUED IN THE SEQUEL “THE DOES AMONG THE WOLVES OF THE NIGHT”**

**where all will be explained so don't fret Readers, UnknownMusing will return to write along with the help of Hannibal and Will .**

**Hannibal:** Thank you...Uhh, Will, could you hand me a tissue?

 **Will:**  Here. (Handing tissue to Hannibal, who takes it to wipe tears forming in his eyes)

 **Me** : By the folks, I'm teary as well because it been a long journey and the word count rivals that of Warren Peace Novel. A quote from my old English Teacher "Don't go writing a Warren Peace when you do a Creative Essay" and what did I do, went over the word limit during school times. 

 **Me, Hannibal and Will:**   Bye everyone, see you next time. And in the words of Hannibal _"Bon Appetit"_ from a episode. 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
